For the first time in six years, I have a new address. Six years is the second longest I've lived at any address besides my first childhood home in Texas.
But this move had more meaning than any move I've made. Even more than my move to NYC almost 14 years ago. Even though I only moved 0.3 miles, it was a significant move.
For 6 years, I was "the guy with a garden in the West Village of NYC." For 6 years I was "the guy with a Texas-sized BBQ and smoker in the West Village of NYC." My intro included "I mow my lawn on the weekends." My friends who are much wealthier than I am preferred to host events in my #NotSoSecretGarden over their roof decks and staffed homes.
My identity was tied up in my home. And when it was time to move, I had a hard time moving on.
My flex had been my apartment and its uniqueness.
Something material and external to me.
And while I will miss that apartment, the new place Maddie I found 0.3 miles away is even better. It is different, but it is better. And it is equally ours. More to come in this new place soon!
But in the move, I packed up so many things - six years' worth of things. Things that I thought I needed and things that I thought would be important for what lies ahead. But once we got to the new place, it was clear that some of these things no longer served me. In the new setting, things that days earlier had seemed obvious all of a sudden made no sense to keep.
How often do we hold on to things in one setting that we're convinced we need and then we move on to a new understanding or setting in the world and we find that the possessions we'd been holding onto no longer serve us?
I found out what I was holding onto physically. Now I wonder, what I am holding onto mentally, psychologically, and spiritually that no longer serves me?