Making the decision to leave your job, pack your entire life into a storage unit and take a job that pays next to nothing and live in a tiny cabin for 8 months so that you can see the world isn’t that difficult of a decision when you are sitting in a comfortable home and spending your steady paychecks and living in a community where you are comfortable and have friends and support. It’s not that hard of a decision at all – it sounds exciting – it feels adventurous.
Well last week I started the part of this process that feels much less exciting and far less adventurous. I dove head first into the process of ripping my nice, comfortable life here in Philly from it’s very seams. Friday, July 20th was my last day at work. While I definitely feel it was time for me to make this career move I can’t help but think how much I will miss the tight-knit community and camaraderie that exists working in a small hotel environment.
It was hard to say goodbye but leaving work turned out to be the easy part (we’ll see if I’m still saying that after the paychecks stop). I spent all last week packing up my apartment and moving it all into storage. Talk about stress – I couldn’t sleep…thinking about how to pack, what’s going to storage, what’s going to my mom’s house, will it all fit in the truck, will it all fit into storage, how will I get that huge desk out of my room….and on and on and on. Luckily all of my stress was totally unfounded and my move went surprisingly smoothly. No problems with the rental truck, an hour and half for two of us to load everything into the truck and a half hour for 4 of us to load it all into storage.
As I emptied cabinets, drawers and closets – becoming more and more appalled at just how much stuff I have – I thought about the reflection email I sent during my last voyage. In reflecting on the lessons I learned I talked about how US Americans have way too much “stuff” in our lives. In an effort to “live” the lessons I learned on that voyage I did make a concerted effort to rid my life of excess “stuff” over the past two years. Despite that effort I still have enough “stuff” to fill a 10 x 15 storage unit. How depressing. On the bright side – I did do a lot of purging and didn’t allow myself to pack ANYTHING that I hadn’t used in the last year. What can I say? I guess I rationalize by saying that I’m not 23 anymore – when I am living in the US I want my crock pot, I want my coffee grinder, I want my million throw blankets, I want my pictures on the wall and displays of some of my goodies from abroad, I want to live comfortably and not like I’m in waiting for my “real life” to start. So if that means renting a 14 foot truck and having to get help with the move than so be it.
So anyway, I started thinking about all the crazy stress I was feeling and started wondering why? Yes, I haven’t moved in two years and yes I had more stuff than before but my stress level still seemed out of proportion to the move. Let’s be serious – I’ve moved 22 times since I left for college (ok so if I take out the 16 moves during college than I’ve still moved 6 times in the last 10 years) – so moving is nothing new to me.
I think part of the stress came from the fact that I am almost 33 years old and I thought maybe I would be more settled in my life at this point. I started having those crazy doubts – what was I thinking taking this job?...this means that I won’t be settled anywhere for at least another year….am I really getting on a ship with hundreds of people not knowing a single soul?....I’m really going to do a job search while being unemployed?...am I totally crazy??? See what happens when I’m not working and have too much time on my hands? – I obsess like a mad woman. Well after all of my fears of moving were unfounded these doubts started to settle down. I do know that this is what I’m supposed to do next. It is extremely inconvenient to pack my whole life away and live out of two bags for a year but the rewards will far outweigh the inconvenience. This endeavor feels scary but without change there is no growth.
I have irrational doubts and fears all the time so I knew that all of the stress wasn’t coming solely from that. What was it then? I put my finger on it late last week. I think I’m mourning leaving Philly. I never thought of myself as a city girl but I have absolutely loved living here. I hate the parking (or lack there of), I hate worrying about my car being side-swiped, I hate my freezing cold apartment in the winter and the fact that I still live in a place with no closets, I hate that you can’t buy a cocktail for under $9. Despite those frustrations there are so many things that have endeared me to this city. The coffee shop and ice cream shop around the corner from my apartment, the ease of navigating the streets (William Penn and Ben Franklin planned it out right!), the fact that Philly is the 6th largest city in the US but yet somehow has a small town feel (9 times out of 10 I see someone I know when I’m in Center City), all of the green spaces, parks, running and biking trails, the fact that I can walk everywhere in the city, the distinct feels of different neighborhoods, the smells, the energy and the fabulous fresh produce at the Italian Market….my list of loves could go on and on…
I love walking home from work with friends and deciding to spontaneously stop and grab dinner at the new restaurant in the neighborhood. I love my boot camp exercise class at 6am on the steps of the Art Museum. I love not having to drive my car for 3 weeks at a time and never worrying about traffic. I love that I’m in better shape than I have been in years because of all the walking I do and the convenience of running and bike trails all over the city. I love all the great people that I have met in this city.
Looking back I think this is the first time since I left Salisbury that I am really mourning leaving a place. During my other moves I always mourned something – the people, the work, my roommates, etc. but not the place I lived.
It was sad to lock my apartment for the last time this week and turn the keys over to the landlord. Even if I some day come back to the city it will never be the same as it’s been these past two years – the neighborhoods and people are always changing. I will always cherish my two years here and am comforted by the fact that I will only be a short train-ride away when I return to NJ in May.
So as the title of this post reflects – as I begin this adventure in earnest my emotions are rollercoastering up and down and all over the place. I know that this is just part of the process and there are more ups and downs to come. All I can do is hang on and soak in every part of this ride
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