For the first time in 15 years, I've moved from one place to another. This time, it was not a simple move from one town to the next, but leaving one country and moving to another. I left Switzerland, where I have been living for over 30 years, and returned to England, the land of my birth.
After 15 years, I had forgotten how stressful moving could be. I had to go through planning for months ahead, doing the actual moving (which was spread in several phases over several weeks), then finding new accommodation, and finally moving in. It doesn’t leave much time for blogging or writing.
I hadn’t realised how much more bureaucratic England had become in the intervening years. I still have months of arguing and work ahead of me, but most can be carried out with a telephone, computer and printer.
It doesn’t mean that there hasn’t been change in my life during the 15 years before the move. After all, I created a company and ran it for a over a decade before having to dissolve it again because of a decreasing demand in the market for my skills. I had several clients of different size and importance, covering a variety of areas of interest. My Wanderlust was satisfied with these changes, instead of giving me itchy feet.
So now the worst of the move is behind me, and I can start concentrating on you again. I will be blogging a lot more in the near future, and my first book should be ready for purchase in the next few weeks.
An interesting sidebar to the move: when I mentioned to my Zen priest friend that I was leaving the country, he asked me what I was doing with my stuff. He told me it was good, from time to time, to get rid of everything you don’t really need and keep only what is of importance to you. I realise now that he was right! I left behind most of my library; all my science fiction books, many of my computer books (which turned out to be out of date, anyway), those parts of my personal growth collection which I had either outgrown or were no longer relevant. I reduced my library from 9 bookshelves to 1½. I also looked at each book I wanted to keep and researched whether there was a Kindle version available; if there was, the paper version got left behind, and I purchased an electronic version.
I left many clothes and other items behind, and have regretted only one item so far: a banner my friend gave me, with a Zen saying on it. It had somehow slipped behind a bookcase and so was lost.
It’s unbelievable how freeing giving up so much can be! After all, it only represents things that are no longer of importance to us, and which may be actively holding us back. I don’t suggest that you do something so radical, if that’s not possible for you, but why don’t you look at your “stuff”, and ask yourself whether it’s really necessary.