Touching Everything I Own…Again.

I’m moving in January.

With this move, I believe,

I will officially become a person

who moves a lot.

Five moves in 20 years.

Is that a lot?

With each move,

I’ve bought further south

(nothing dramatic—still in the same

coffee/grocery/yoga zipcode)

and into smaller spaces.

One more move and I’ll disappear

along the Dan Ryan.

I like to move.

I like to use up a space and move on.

If there’s one thing I know about myself,

it’s that I know when I’m

Done. Done. Done.

And, it’s time to move.

Literally or metaphorically.

Doesn’t matter.

Part of the ritual of moving,

you may recall,

is “touching everything I own”.

I like nice things, but not a lot of them.

So, part of the moving ritual is

consciously, intentionally

accessing and inviting the things in my life

to stay in my life.

Or, politing. lovingly arranging

for their own moving on.

I have things—random cookware,

clothing accessories, office paperwork—

that don’t detract from my current space,

but don’t need to be part of my life moving forward.

The process lets me land in my new space

lighter, clearer and ready to begin again.

In Regard to Rituals

Resolutions Are Dumb