The worst thing about packing is packing the things you’ve packed before. While that sentence probably doesn’t make a lot of sense, stay with me. I have a point. I promise.
I’ve lived lots of places and I’ve moved more times than I’d like to admit. The one thing that remains constant are those boxes that stay packed. You bury them in the spare room closet or in the storage room off of the garage. And when it comes time to pack up, there they are, begging to be opened. And what do you do? If you’re me you open them.
I don’t know why I do that. I know what’s in them. And it only makes the packing process longer. But there I am sitting in the floor digging through each box…again.
Some boxes make me laugh hysterically. They contain photos and mementos from elementary school to college. Other boxes cause a tear or two or two hundred. They’re the boxes that hold all the ghosts of lifetimes past. For me, I have way too many of those boxes and why I insist on looking through them every single time I have no idea.
Ok, yes I do. To remind me of where I came from. A refresher of the lessons and morals my grandparents and parents instilled in me. It’s a bittersweet call to action to get off my ass and finish what I started.
Just one look at a photo of my Dad and I can hear him say “Mistie Leigh, you need to get your shit in one sock”. Not that he or anyone else thinks my shit is all over the place (well maybe some do), but he’s just telling me to keep moving forward and not get sidetracked or give up.
My Mom always told me that I can become whatever I want. I want to prove her right so technically speaking, and according to her , I will. My Grandpa joked with me all the time about my stubbornness. I’m pretty certain if used in the right way, that’s a good trait to have (note to self — be stubborn in the right way). My Grandma always smiled a lot at me. I don’t really know why she did but just seeing her smile now instantly relaxes me.
Moving is a time of new beginnings. You can use it as a reorganization or a rebranding so to speak. Get rid of the things you never use and rediscover things you forgot you had (like my favorite pink pajamas — which I’ve been missing). Lighten the load and look forward to the new adventures and opportunities that lie ahead.
Packing is part of the growing process. Yes it’s a pain in the ass, but you need to go through it to reach the next level. The key is knowing when it’s time to let go of things that no longer serve you. Those tattered boxes that have been opened and sealed so many times over will always motivate me no matter how difficult it is to look through them. They are keepers. And so are my pink pajamas. I’m wearing them as I write this. So there you have it. Here’s to the next level and having my shit in one sock!