I have a somewhat complex relationship when it comes to moving. Granted, I have done this many, many times over the course of my life, and as such I should be quite good at it.
I am not.
Packing, sorting, transporting and unpacking are not any of my good skills. I'm OK at carrying things, assuming they are not to heavy or too cumbersome.
Moving takes time. It is a decision. It comes with change, uncertainty, leaving behind the familiar and embracing the unknown. I'm not very good at embracing the unknown. I admit that sometimes change can be outright scary. I know I'm paraphrasing H. P. Lovecraft here, but the statement still stands.
"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown."
There you go.
Uprooting whatever tentative roots you had placed down at a location can certainly affect people. Saying goodbye to various people over and over again is not a skill I think one should be good at, but it is a byproduct of rapid moving/changing location.
Even if what you are moving towards is an upgrade of what you had before.
A physical location you inhabit over a prolonged time should be called home.
What is home? That is a question that has many different answers, depending on the person being asked. For me, home is safety, being able to relax, feeling content and/or happy at.
I once felt coming home when I was visiting a city I had previously lived in. I ended up moving back to it, and it felt like home for quite a while. Now that I'm leaving said city I can say that it has been a home for me, for a while, but no longer is. Home is now someplace else. Home is where I am moving to.
I detest cleaning in general, and cleaning an apartment you're moving out of is always, ALWAYS a pain for me. And this time, I only have myself to rely on for cleaning.
Don't worry about the skeletons, I'm bringing those with me.
And books. So many books.
My home is not home without books.
I'm leaving a city for a village that in all probability is older than the city I'm leaving.
There is also easier access to nature. This pleases me.
The name of the place is more to my liking as well: the Nest in the Valley of the Blue Mountains.
Many things I leave behind. Regret is not one of them. In fact, I cannot wait to be done with this moving and cleaning and return home again.
