I've come to the conclusion that moving is a cathartic experience - and that I have become someone who no longer likes change. In my 20's I was a leap off the edge, risk taker, change seeking kinda gal - moving far away, taking chances, moving even further away, oftentimes not even looking before I leapt. Over the weekend I realized I don't think I'm that person anymore.
On Saturday a friend came over in the morning to help with the move. He and his wife are relo'ing to Texas this weekend and throughout the course of conversation he said something that stuck with me all day, "sometimes you need to shake things up." Later in the day a couple more close friends rolled in to assist with organizing and along the way one of them asked how long I'd lived in my other place. When I responded saying six years - he looked at me and said, "it was time for you to make a change." I laughed saying, "oh yeah big change I moved upstairs," but he stuck with it saying he really felt I had needed some sort of change to keep moving forward. Even though I didn't say anything in response, I've been thinking about it ever since.
On Sunday it donned on me, as I walked through my old apartment, that this is the longest I've lived anywhere in 20 years. And then the strangest thing happened - I got really sad and had to swallow a sizable lump in my throat.
Isn't it funny how when you're in a situation you don't see how weathered and worn
it's become until you remove yourself and look at what's left.
This was my favorite room in the house - it has the best natural light and I'll really miss it...despite the fact that it clearly needs a new paint job in a bad way.
I lived in every room of this place - no space was under utilized as evidenced by the wear and tear.
Even though you can't see the full size, this was my office.
I'm an Executive Recruiter for anyone
who doesn't already know. I burned my voice out on the phone, counseled
people into and out of jobs, laughed my head off, cried my eyes out, and ripped people
a new one in this room. I learned just how strong I am in an 11x11 space.
I couldn't fit the entire bedroom in this picture - it's much wider and has big windows behind me.
What I'll remember most is the light streaming through the windows, the amazing deco
detailing on the walls and ceiling...and the door that provided escape when the
place was broken into in the middle of the night. (
See here).
Even though I'm nowhere near unpacked, organized and situated one thing I know I'm going
to love about the new place is all the soft warm light that streams in in late afternoon.
When I was sitting on the couch yesterday afternoon I happened to glance outside the door
to the lanai (that's what my Hawaiian friends call it and it sounds so much better than deck, don't you think?)
and notice the tops of the palm trees in the distance. Sigh
This is a win-win-win for all three of us. Two of whom may just be
even more traumatized by the simple change than I am.
But we all made it in one piece.
Onward and upward to the weekend when hopefully there will be many spare moments to get things in order. I am most definitely having an existential crisis which is probably a good thing, otherwise how does a person take tally of where their life is and if it's even on track? Pardon me while I go locate the track.
On a lighter note - Winner of the Fitness Giveaway is #57 -
Bella Gets Real! Email your information to me and prepare to Shred and Pilate, my friend. I shredded once over the weekend, but with moving to a place that requires me to climb 15 stairs multiple times per week I feel toned legs are on the horizon. My lats are screaming from all the lifting and my calves are tight as ever. Bring.it.on. I'm so far behind on the shred I fear everyone's moved on to Level 3 and left me in the dust. cough cough
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