Keeping Things Whole

Over the weekend I moved from my large, beautiful (albeit cluttered) and sunlight spattered room downstairs to a significantly smaller room with baby blue and fire engine red walls.  My new room has one window which faces a fence and a garage-like house, and lets in significantly less light.  Although I only moved things into this room that I'll be using in the month of February, the room feels cluttered (I haven't gotten around to unpacking, and the extra boxes are taking up some of my preciously small floor space).  The rest of my belongings are sitting in a pile in the downstairs living room (sorry, Sarah).  While I managed to purge quite a few things, I'm still not done.  My pile of stuff, while not particularly large, still contain more things than I need.  Thankfully, my sister Ivy is coming to visit this weekend, and she will be able to help me sort and purge more.

I found the process of packing, moving, and purging to be very unsettling.  Throughout the entire day I kept questioning myself- is this a mistake?  What kind of person walks away (albeit temporarily) from a job in this kind of economy?  Am I regressing by attempting to simplify my life in this manner, and then venturing out into the unknown?  Starting in 47 days I'm going to be functionally homeless, without a permanent address, living out of a backpack.  During this time I will not be climbing the corporate ladder, working on making the world a better place, volunteering, or being present to witness the joys and share in the sorrows of my friends and family.  I will carry a cell phone, but it will be off almost all the time  I'll only access the Internet about once per week.  I won't be following current events.  I won't be running regularly.  Or going to see live music.  Or spending time with people I love.  Or having Tuesday Night Dinner. 

And now, several days later, I've come to a rather significant conclusion.  I will be giving up a lot of things for this hike- things that are bigger and more important than an over sized pile of possessions in the living room.  But in the pursuit of a dream I've had for over 15 years- for the ability to test my mettle and to see what sort of material I am made of, to spend six months living so simply that my only priorities will be food, shelter, motion, and sleep, and to be mentally and physically challenged in ways that I cannot fathom- for this, it's worth it.  And so I bought a train ticket.

I'm going to Georgia in March, and it's thrilling!