On the Art of Moving

I leave Australia in about two weeks.  It’s not a move I’m ready for, neither logistically nor emotionally, but I’m hoping that when the time comes, I will be.

I’ve been thinking about packing my bags.  I’ve picked up a few things through the semester, and I don’t know where they’re going to fit; my bags were already, well, packed.  I suppose I’m going to have to make some hard choices.  Some things are just going to have to go.  However, there are bigger concerns.

            I know that once I am home, once my bags are unpacked and I’m back to work on the farm and eating supper with the family, there’ll be a morning when I wake up and realize that it’s not weird to be home.  It will be comfortable and pleasant, and normal.  I’ll still miss the people here, and think fondly on the experience, but I will have moved on.

Some part of me will resist this and try to hold on to my connection to my Australian home.  Somehow the thought of moving on from a half a year in another world is almost offensive, and I would rather just never move on.  It feels like the process of moving on somehow devalues what you are moving on from.

But that’s a lie.  Moving on is an essential part of life, and without the ability to let go, we’ll end up carrying a lot of baggage and dead weight.

And this is the art of moving; finding the balance between holding on and letting go.  Too much of either, and you’ll pay a price.  While there are some things that will never leave me, friendships and lessons learned and positive memories, I will also have to accept reality, and Nebraska will be my home again.

            And no, I don’t think I’m super clever for figuring out that you have to let go of certain things.  My real intent is to find other ways to apply this principle to my life.  There are other kinds of “moving” in my life; in, out, on, along, through, around.  I’ll keep it vague so you can find your own examples.  In some of these things in my own life, I haven’t found the right balance yet.  But at least now I know that.

             If you’re reading this and you live in Australia, and you’re in the market for a guitar, a duna, a pillow, chairs, books, posters, or about 75 empty cans of miscellaneous energy drinks, let me know.  Prices are negotiable.