I look around my California condo and all I see is “packing.” No provocative books or magazines to read, no challenging writing projects, no menus to create around a special Vermentino. Endless sorting, organizing, throwing out and for what’s left (which is most of it), packing. My best friend is The Container Store, where I spend hours searching for the right plastic bin and the latest unadvertised pop-up storage sale. My garage is a monument to a lifetime, without an epitaph. The chunks and snippets of days that I once devoted to creativity are now devoted to packing up my life into cubic inches.
When “stuff” happens, the lens change, warping the lines forward. For problem-solvers like me, the focus is on straightening those lines and getting back to normal. Where does that path lead?
At 3 am, my ritual hour so tossing and turning, I reimagine my life with a clutter-free closet and the contents of each box known. I seize a few moments and type into my iPhone Notes app. Hah! A new solution forming, and I fall back into a deep sleep.
It’s time to move, finally. A 20-year journey criss-crossing the country, voyaging to distant places on the globe, is now directing me back where I started. The signs couldn’t be clearer. What goes in the boxes on the West Coast will reemerge from them on the East Coast. Relocated 3000 miles across country to escape painful heartbreak, it took a flood – literally – through the ceiling of my condo to outline the path forward.
So my seven-month upheaval is winding down in a good way after wringing out soggy possessions, living out of suitcases, shipping my car on an 18-wheeler and what the heck, building a new house that reminds me of a previous one that brought much happiness. All this lands me in the Carolinas, now welcoming me like an old friend. Which I am. I lived here once, despite, Thomas Wolfe’s mournful warning that you can’t go home again, and never expected to return. But life happens, wisdom and experience open new possibilities, family beckons. The familiar scenes of a chunk of my youth have a bright patina, the quick hops to friends and family up and down the East Coast bring fresh excitement and joy, the uncharted territory has sturdy, reliable anchors and supports a new chapter.
This next journey is about coming home.
