I have spent the last 4 years of my life living between a lot of homes and boxes. With my last move from Puglia, I’m clocking in at 7 apartments plus 4 different storage units in two countries. It sounds absurd when I think about this way, but I realize that all the tireless packing and moving was simply necessary while I carved my path towards this bi-continental life as a coach/yoga practitioner in training.
I arrived from Italy on a warmish mid-October night to all of my belongings that have been shuffled around from different storage units over the last few years, in one room. What joy that was. That night, after filling myself up on what felt like novelty cocktails and sea scallops, I rummaged around boxes for my air mattress and pump, sheets and blankets and set up my bedroom on the living room floor. That was the start of this fascinating process of unpacking and sinking into home, or perhaps more accurate, letting my home evolve.
Usually by now, over a month later, I would have walls painted, photos hung, curtains up, something festive and floral on the front stoop and life would be clicking along at a good speed. This time though, the details have been slow to unfold and as a result these weeks have felt peaceful, patient and practical and yeah, kind of slow. No unnecessary spending on things I won’t actually use or want in the future, no anxiety over a half painted bathroom and no nightly disappointment in a duvet that desperately needs updating. I trust that it will all happen.
I account the difference this time around the fact that my plate is quite full (and unexpectedly so), but more so because I am engaged in the process of allowing the house come into itself on its own and I’m enjoying watching it happen. No the pictures will not hang themselves, but I’m finding if I let things be for a while without rushing into making it the way I think I want it, my belongings naturally fall where they make the most sense, and therefore make me feel at home. (Enter metaphor-for-life moment here).
Today the ceramic dish brought back to me from Kenya officially became my key dish because that’s where I naturally want to put them. It works. Yesterday I decided that instead of on the wall the best place for my map of the city was in the bathroom because that’s where I spend the most time looking at it anyway. Everyday I find a little bit more rhythm in my house and every day something new finds its place in the most organic way possible.
I think about all the moves I’ve made in the past and why that sinking in has come with more resistance, or not come at all. Most likely because I’ve been in rush, too focused on the next thing instead of enjoying the process of unfolding. Today there is no next thing….this is my thing and I feel like if I let it, it will all happen. Everything, including myself, will find its place.