Moving Out vs. Moving In

Moving - for the modern American - punches the gut in diversified ways. It forces us to examine our vast accumulations - the plastic bins, the hangers, the shoes you haven’t worn since your twenties, the twenty-five variations of unused glassware, the friggin’ spice rack!

Every single vial full of dried granules that expired in 2018. ARGHHH.

You have to pack it up, organize it, catalogue it, ensure it makes the journey to your new destination.

In our recent move, there were several moments where I seriously considered just burning everything down.

We’re not like the nomadic tribes of pre-colonial America - whose livelihood and way of life meant wrapping up your possessions in a bundle and hitting the trail within minutes.

We have STUFF. Too much, too unnecessary, too resource intensive, and too hard to let go.

Why?

I’ll perhaps dive into American psychology, capitalism, and the accumulation of goods in another post. But for today, I want to focus on one slight positive of the moving experience.

Moving out sucks.

But I sorta like moving in.

Moving out involves a ticking clock, a deadline, a temporal pressure cooker that stresses your soul and doesn’t let up. You have to get your stuff out so the new residents can get their stuff in! But wait, there’s more. You have to sort things - what do I keep, what can I discard? Who wants this spatula set? Who needs these 37 t-shirts from my college days?

And once you decide to discard something, who will take it? It’s not so simple. My kids don’t want a set of Victorian dishware. The charity services groups aren’t a guarantee - we took a bookshelf to Goodwill and they said “nope, not for us.”

Shit. Who can I get to take this stuff? A dining room set? A moderately used sofa? I hate to throw it away, but not every item can be sold on Craigslist.

Then there’s the logistics. Packing day? Moving day? Cleaning day? Trying to get our stuff out of the house by the fast approaching deadline requires more planning than the Olympic Games.

But moving in? That’s a relative breath of fresh air.

Don’t get me wrong, moving in still requires a ton of work.

But to me, it’s a much more enjoyable part of the experience. It’s fundamentally a hopeful, future-oriented exercise.

When moving in you tackle numerous questions that offer a window of opportunity to make your life better. You think to yourself:

• “Where should this go?”

• “How will my life be better by re-arranging the contents of the kitchen cabinetry?”

• “Can I be a better homeowner by how I organize the garage?”

• “Will getting rid of this old sheet set make me a better person?”

• “Will happiness flow if I place the sofa in that corner vs. the wall?”

You have a brief moment to reassess how you live your life, to question your assumptions and daily patterns. Do I really need this? Why does it have to be a certain way? What purpose does this serve? Can I do better?

It’s silly when you think about it - but in today’s culture swimming with stuff - moving offers the rare chance to confront your belongings and change the dynamic. For a short period of time, you are in charge.

You determine how your belongings will serve your life - not the other way around.

You can purge, re-organize, optimize, and change.

“Moving out” is an ending, while “moving in” is a beginning.

Now, back to the boxes…

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Disclaimer:

All content and opinions are solely those of the author (Jack), and not representative of my employer, former employers, clients, anyone in Congress, my family, former college roommates, Baptists, the good citizens of Colorado, or my dog Mabel.