This morning I was thinking about how much baggage I have had over the years, metaphorically and literally. Every time I’ve moved I managed to shed some of what has collected, which helps, but it seems to accumulate when I stay too long in one place, again, both metaphorically and literally.
When I settle into a living space I seem to fill all the nooks and crannies and flat spaces with baggage… shoes that don’t quite fit, books that I really can’t seem to get into, multiple crochet hooks of the same size, thoughts that weigh on me, reminders of bad decisions, and regrets and doubt find their way into empty closets in my brain.
I think that’s why I enjoy changing where I live. It shakes things up. Dust off the cobwebs, find new homes for items, enjoy discovering things that were lost, and organizing and packing up boxes. It also feels like I am able box up and toss negative thoughts, focus on settling in a new environment instead of stagnating where I was. Moving is an excuse to throw your life up in the air and just catch all the good stuff.
What I really need to work on is learning to thrive in place. And ditch the baggage as it comes.