Tuesday, November 16, 2010
It's Here: Day of Show!
As if the skies over Abingdon, Virginia are sad for our departure, this early morning is drenched in grey rain, chill air and suitably Fall-like demeanor.....and our moving truck should pull up to our door in another 3 hours or so. It's slightly inconceivable to me that we've managed to pack this 3000 sq. ft house into the piles of brown boxes I see surrounding me, but, with Peter's remarkable organizational skills and hearty energies, so it is! We are (mostly) ready to go!
Jay Allen is the name of our North American Van Lines driver, and he's coming to us from Washington, D.C. , though he himself is a Texan. And the two guys he's picking up to help with the move are from Blacksburg, Va.
I know this because he called me late last week and offered to come pick us up a day early, yesterday in fact, but I told him we needed every ounce of the time until today, and he was most understanding. I imagine he's been through this hundreds of times with countless moving families, and if he has the patience to drive the East-to-West corridor with a truck packed to its edges with other peoples' goods, he certainly has the patience we need to get us through this day. I write on the dining room table I have gotten used to right where it is, and my eyes still habitually go to look for the digitally displayed time on the VCR that is now thrown away, so i imagine the hardest thing will be getting used to re-physicalizing our lives in all the daily, detailed rituals we have been taking for granted for 3 years.
Odd to think that for the next two weeks - as we travel across country - we will be living out of our car, like any other homeless family....because for the next two weeks, we are, essentially, homeless. And our once-large lives are now contained in a series of "carry-on's", with one bag holding our office, another, our clothing, another , our daily ablution needs,another our "vital" papers, etc....and these we will have with us, to conduct each day as easily as possible, from strange motel to strange motel. Another reminder of how little we truly need in order to live....our ideas of overblown lives , filled to the edges with things we simply HAD to buy, dissolving as we will probably live quite easily from these small carry-ons that now contain us.
We are light-weight and blow-able by the winds of change.
1:08 pm: sunshine has broken through, intermittently, and the three guys have been at it for 3 hours now, and the grand piano is ON THE TRUCK!!! along with so much other stuff, but there is more to go...and right now they are working on the sofa!
I sent Peter over to Ann J.'s to take a nap and he truly needs one, he 's been working so hard for this move. A little nap will help him, i hope...he's dragging with fatigue...and who can blame him?
So, probably, this move will take all the rest of this day, I'm thinkin', since Jay, James and Rocky (yep, we have a Rocky on board , as one of the movers) seem to take true care with each placement on the long, long truck. There are already 4 other households on the truck (he is going West with 5, he told me...but I cannot imagine how they could fit another move onto the truck after we're loaded in...) and so they are being very meticulous with using every single tiny inch to "jigsaw puzzle" the entire house of stuff into what's left of the space on the truck. Like the packing up, the putting on of this mass of stuff seems to never look like it's actually getting done...but it is. ...it IS getting done.
Interesting.
And taking much longer than we thought it might. But, the important thing is: we are making this move happen. And we are soon to be on our way to the next adventure we have both enthusiastically chosen!
Surprising and exciting. In fact, it's been probably the most interesting time I've ever had, in terms of charting, observing, coping with and enduring the widest variety of quickly-changing emotions ! Ranging all the way from the ecstasy of the freedom of flight, to the debilitating terror of the unknown...and every color in between! And, every so often, all of that intense changeability has driven us both crazy...but on the whole, I'd say, this has been a remarkably sane time of transition. And this is wonderful to note....a relief to realize.
I want this next phase of my life to be a sane, calmly observed time, one in which I can gather my thoughts by the river of Time, and relax on the warm sands of new-found wisdom. This will be a time of quiet, meditating, writing, observing, being with, tolerating fear, gaining a foothold on new territory: graceful aging. I want to be a wise elder, not a foolish one. And somehow, I feel that this move to San Francisco is meant to deepen this commitment I have to further personal growth: some say that San Francisco is not only an entire other state, but it is also an entire other state of mind!! Something about the vibrations that come off that Pacific Ocean...after all, it is named Pacific...not Turbulent Ocean...Pacific...almost sounds like a sigh of relief. Like air escaping from a very tired tire.
So, as the minutes glide by, and as these men take our life upon their shoulders and put it on a truck, I sit and observe: we are a puzzle, and our possessions are only some of its pieces.
1:08 pm: sunshine has broken through, intermittently, and the three guys have been at it for 3 hours now, and the grand piano is ON THE TRUCK!!! along with so much other stuff, but there is more to go...and right now they are working on the sofa!
I sent Peter over to Ann J.'s to take a nap and he truly needs one, he 's been working so hard for this move. A little nap will help him, i hope...he's dragging with fatigue...and who can blame him?
So, probably, this move will take all the rest of this day, I'm thinkin', since Jay, James and Rocky (yep, we have a Rocky on board , as one of the movers) seem to take true care with each placement on the long, long truck. There are already 4 other households on the truck (he is going West with 5, he told me...but I cannot imagine how they could fit another move onto the truck after we're loaded in...) and so they are being very meticulous with using every single tiny inch to "jigsaw puzzle" the entire house of stuff into what's left of the space on the truck. Like the packing up, the putting on of this mass of stuff seems to never look like it's actually getting done...but it is. ...it IS getting done.
Interesting.
And taking much longer than we thought it might. But, the important thing is: we are making this move happen. And we are soon to be on our way to the next adventure we have both enthusiastically chosen!
Surprising and exciting. In fact, it's been probably the most interesting time I've ever had, in terms of charting, observing, coping with and enduring the widest variety of quickly-changing emotions ! Ranging all the way from the ecstasy of the freedom of flight, to the debilitating terror of the unknown...and every color in between! And, every so often, all of that intense changeability has driven us both crazy...but on the whole, I'd say, this has been a remarkably sane time of transition. And this is wonderful to note....a relief to realize.
I want this next phase of my life to be a sane, calmly observed time, one in which I can gather my thoughts by the river of Time, and relax on the warm sands of new-found wisdom. This will be a time of quiet, meditating, writing, observing, being with, tolerating fear, gaining a foothold on new territory: graceful aging. I want to be a wise elder, not a foolish one. And somehow, I feel that this move to San Francisco is meant to deepen this commitment I have to further personal growth: some say that San Francisco is not only an entire other state, but it is also an entire other state of mind!! Something about the vibrations that come off that Pacific Ocean...after all, it is named Pacific...not Turbulent Ocean...Pacific...almost sounds like a sigh of relief. Like air escaping from a very tired tire.
So, as the minutes glide by, and as these men take our life upon their shoulders and put it on a truck, I sit and observe: we are a puzzle, and our possessions are only some of its pieces.
Labels: San Francisco move
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