The Art of the Move

The moving process has begun. My apartment is full of musty old boxes, just waiting for me to fill them with all my belongings. I love moving! Anyone who’s know me for more than 5 years knows that moving is built into my genes. It’s part of who I am. It’s like an alarm clock goes off every 3 years or so (it used to go off a lot more often). I must be part gypsy.

Houston
New Jersey
Albuquerque
Minot
Great Falls – we lived in 4 different places in GF (Maybe 5). I went to 4 different schools for my third grade year.
Lancaster – 3 different places
Redmond
Tasis (I’m not counting Saudi Arabia here since that was part of TASIS – though it was still a move)
Pullman – 4 different places
Guadalajara
Redmond
Bellevue
Kent
Renton
Home to Redmond with Mom and Dad for 6 months
Bellevue
Renton – Two different places
Bellevue
Kirkland
Bellevue – two different places this time
Lynnwood
And finally back to Redmond

This will be my 31st Move! I’m sure I’m missing one or two somewhere. But that’s quite a list in 40 years. That’s and average of 1.29 yrs in one place.

I have several friends who have asked why I move so much. When I mention I’m moving to people I get a mixed reaction. Some are like, “Wow, again?” Others are not surprised at all. And still others feel the need to ask, “Why?” and that is usually followed with, “I hate to move.”

So I started thinking about it. Why do I like to move? I could blame the list above – I was an military brat for the first several years of my life. And anyone who’s father or mother was in the military knows you move a lot. There were always boxes we just didn’t unpack – there wasn’t a need. I got used to not getting very comfortable in one place. And as sure as you did get comfortable, you’d hear the news – we were moving.

Moving around so much as a kid, I believe, made it very easy for me to make friends. I do remember as a kid not wanting to become too good of friends with anyone because, well, we’d be moving. In Lancaster is where I felt that finally we would be staying put in the same city at least for some time. We were in Lancaster for 10 years. And when I think about where “home” might be, Lancaster is usually the first to come to mind. It was where I was molded into who I am today. It was most my teenage years. It was where I met some of my still bestest friends. It was where heartache first touched me. It was where we lost Grandpa Spaid (not as is we lost him and don’t know where he is, but more he passed away). It was where I gained a new dad and three new step-brothers (BigBro being one of them). It was where I tried smoking for the first time and just about choked to death. It was where I got in some of the biggest trouble I’ve ever been in. It was where God became a big part of my life. It was where I learned to twirl a rifle, and march in step. It was, in my mind, home.

Then we moved.

And now Seattle and its surrounding cities/towns is my home. And moving around Seattle has been my pastime. I’ve had several roommates – some of whom I would prefer to never see again (not you Blueberry). But I’ve lived the most by myself. And I like that. I own what the big black beast of burden allows me to own in my domain. And now I’m packing again. Packing up items that have become the definition of my adult life.

Boxes scatter the apartment. Items are carefully packed waiting for a spot in their new home. Many things are being discarded – used and no longer needed. I’m a big fan of getting rid of things. I’d rather pass them on then pack them and take them with me. But I’m at that very odd phase of packing. It’s too early to pack everything – and I can guarantee once something is packed, I’ll need it. And yet I can’t wait to pack because I hate last minute packing chaos. So I’m trying to be very systematic about my packing. And yes, for those who know me, we’ll have a color coding system to indicate what floor or room the boxes should go into.

And so in three weeks I’ll be unpacking and putting my belongings into new locations, new homes. I’ll be spending the month of February trying to remember where I unpacked something and where it might make most sense to go instead. Unpacking is my favorite part. It’s all new, fresh, changed.