Boxes

And, once more, my life is a bunch of boxes sitting on a living room floor, waiting to be taped shut and loaded into the back of a truck.


I've moved an average of once a year since my 18th birthday.  Off to college, back to my mom's house, back to college, across campus for the summer, across campus for a semester, to Ghana (via Mom's house), back to campus (via Mom's house), then back to Mom's house, then to Uruguay, then to Chicago (via Mom's house), then to Boulder, then back to Chicago, then down the street in Chicago, then to Iowa, and now (once more), to Chicago.  Fifteen moves, if you don't count sojourns of less than 6 weeks at my mom's house.  I've nearly averaged TWO moves a year.  Have I mentioned I'm really, REALLY good at packing?


There's a smiley face, and a frowny face, version of my practically nomadic existence.  The smiley face: I love going new places and doing new things.  Even by the pretty-mobile standards of a 21st century North American young adult, I've gotten around quite a bit.  I truly am free to go where I want, do what I want, and experience the width and breadth of life in this world.  I'm a better, more thoughtful, more open-minded person for all my moving around.  I now have a network of friends that literally spans the entire world.  I've learned that home is about more than four walls and a roof; it's about people, and connectedness.  I think of "stuff" as a millstone around my neck, just a collection of semi-necessary evils, and I try to minimize and simply how I can, when I can...I like to travel light through life.  I am a better person for all of these moves.


Now, the frowny face: The one thing I want, more than anything, is to be settled someplace.  I'm sick of saving my moving boxes because I know I'll need them again soon.  I'm tired of living with one foot here, and another foot over there.  I'm hungry for the rootedness and sense of place that comes from settling down in the same spot for a while.  I want to meet children, and youth, and watch them grow, become grown-ups, settle down and have kids, and then watch those kids grow.  I long to feel like an old salt in a community rather than always the new guy.


But, for now, it's boxes.  I pack them up, I move them, I open them, and I find that what I put in them is more than just dishes and clothing and books; I put my dreams, my heart, my life in them, and as they come out of those boxes, I plant them, once more, in new soil and wait to see what fruit they bear.