Back when I was a dumb kid, I dropped out of architecture school, sold most of my stuff and moved to Oakland, CA. It was my first attempt to leave the Midwest behind and it was short-lived. Now, with slightly more support from my family, the west coast relocation plan has been initiated a second time.
With roughly 30 days to get everything in order, I’m reminded that major life changes are never quite as riveting as you imagine they’ll be. Logistics interrupt the sensation of excitement and planning quickly turns the unknown into blatant reality. The fuzzy fantasy is suddenly under harsh fluorescent bulbs.
What am I going to do with this ___________?
Why do I own this ___________?
Do I really want to carry this ___________ up thirteen flights of stairs?
17 years ago my approach was simple. I made sure I had my music and my clothes. Today, as the owner of three cars, two BBQ grills and a house full of furniture, I think I need to summon my inner 19-year-old and apply to same logic to this move. Take what matters most and leave the rest behind. Sell it. Gift it. Leave it on peoples’ desks at work while they’re out of town on vacation. After all, I still believe today what I learned back then—it’s just stuff. And as un-American as it sounds, stuff does not define a person as much as it seems to weigh them down.