I think about everything that I have to get done to move from Sydney to Manila and it boggles the mind. Only 6 months ago I sat in my large office on the Sunshine coast staring at my enormous aquarium thinking how the hell am I going to move that down to Sydney? Now again, I look around at my physical life of things and sit like a stunned deer in a traffic jam of headlights, unable to move (or pack).
Boxes and boxes of items… Sometimes I feel as if I move through life like a magnet attracting collateral shards of clutter in my life. I surround myself with physical things that make a space my own… Some things are sentimental however, most things are of temporary significance, probably forgotten in a years time as I move on and they disappear back into the dark void of matter to be recycled into someone else’s things …
Moving is always hard, especially when you get down to the small items, things that aren’t so easily slotted into a moving taxonomy. But when you’re moving overseas… What on earth do you take and what do you leave?… There are things that don’t belong in aeroplane luggage. What will I do with my weather station that’s bolted to our balcony, spinning in the wind indicating the direction and speed of the gentle Sydney breeze? How will I get that to Manila to warn me of the weekly approaching typhoon winds as the dark grey monsoon ceiling creeps over the city every afternoon. (I’m a weather nerd – could have been a meteorologist in a past life?)
It’s all simply too much right now. It’s all too much to go through again and so soon. This is typical I suppose. Going through these manic ups and downs that shift so suddenly polarizing my feelings about change. Excitement about a new chapter of life and living in another country come crashing down to the gritty reality of the expenses of storing furniture and the worry of why the hell no one wants to buy our couch!!! It’s enormous, I know… But….! Why is everything we own fucking oversized?
Anyway …breathe in, breath out… I long to look back and read this entry. Reading it as I sit in my Manila garden with a cold San Miguel beer in the balmy tropical air that blasts up from the bay of Manila agitating the dry fronds of tropical palm trees, causing them to swish and rustle in protest. I long to sit, relaxed and watch the lightning storms roll in and appreciate the fact that I’m living in another country and another hemisphere. I want to sit smugly on the equator, updating my Facebook wall with scenes of tropical weather for my friends during the Sydney winter living a good life as a location independent freelancer… But, this all seems so incredibly distant right now, sitting here in a semi-dismantled office, as boxes grow, cupboards empty and small items get left, lying in empty spaces, excluded from the bulk, estranged from the taxonomy of moving.
To be continued sigh