May the packing begin!
As Elsa said, “Let it go! Let it go!”
We are in full swing with our packing extravaganza! As someone who enjoys throwing things away, I have never considered myself someone who has a lot of “stuff.” Also, being a military family, we have a solid household purge every 3-4 years when we move, and toting things around the country has not been a practical option. Everything has always been temporary in my mind (which brings up a whole other topic for conversation). This move, however, is a much different type of purge than prior one’s we’ve engaged in. I’m looking at every single thing I own and am questioning its value.
“How long will this thing be in storage? Will it still work when we get back? What if we settle in another country….will these plugs fit into the outlet?”
I’ve enjoyed the process of letting go.
Owning less possessions has been strangely therapeutic.
And freeing.
I feel much less encumbered by owning less. It reminds me of an important lesson I learned about “owning stuff” when I lived in Hawaii. The idea of “possessions” and “consumerism” was much different than I had been conditioned to believe on the mainland. In Hawaii, I was living alone, working as a waitress. Money was tight, and there was not a lot of disposable income to splurge on something frivolous. That being said, I was only 19. I wasn’t sure how to spend frivolously, anyway. Every so often, I’d buy myself a colorful headband. I was required to wear all black at work, and had to pull my hair back into a ponytail. The extent of my splurge allowed me to buy a headband for a couple of bucks once in a while, so the option to purchase things didn’t really exist for me.
But it wasn’t only money that forbade me from living more frivolously. It was the lifestyle and culture that influenced my perception of what it means to have “stuff.”
In Hawaii, I found myself wanting and needing less than I did on the mainland. Goods weren’t as readily available as they were on the mainland, so the mere process of traveling to the other side of the island to purchase something seemed more like a hassle than a treat. More importantly, the community didn’t seem to value “stuff.” Being in a place that valued quality time, family, and togetherness….all of the “stuff” seemed to matter a lot less.
The pursuit to keep up with the Jones’ was eradicated with one simple solution: place.
Live in a place and surround yourself with people who don’t value stuff, but rather, value togetherness.
As we navigate the next steps of pairing down our stuff, I anticipate returning to our storage unit and saying to myself,
“Why did I ever think I needed this?”
On a separate note, I’m curious what stuff I will miss while we are traveling. I LOVE my bed. Will I miss the feeling of crawling into my own bed? Or will that feeling go away over time, because every bed will be my bed?
I’ve created a life where I literally have every single thing I’ve ever wanted. I could go the rest of my life and not need a single thing, because I have it all already.
Am I getting us into a situation with this travel adventure where we will be desperate for permanency?
And what about my kids? Am I creating children who will turn into non-committal adults? Or the opposite? Children who will grow into adults who never want to leave their home again, because their parents didn’t provide them with a sense of place in childhood?
What seeds and I sowing with this adventure?
I suppose that remains to be seen. Without getting too far in the weeds with existential dread, I’ll wrap up this blog for now. Meanwhile, just know that I’m very mindfully, and joyfully, handling all of my stuff with great care….right before I chuck it into a garbage bag.
-Ashley
