This past week was spring break. It was nice to have time off of work, but for most of the week I was busy sorting through all of my dongxi (translation: stuff). I've accumulated quite a bit since living in China, in addition to all of the things I brought with me from Korea and trips back home over the summer. It's been nice to "spring clean" and reorganize, but the real reason I've been purging is because...
...after four years of living and teaching overseas, I'm moving back to the states.
A big decision and a big transition that is very bittersweet (more bitter than sweet these days). And with that comes a big pile of dongxi that I have to leave behind. I'm a bit of a pack rat, although I've gotten better the longer I've lived overseas, and though I know this about myself, I'm still amazed at how I am able to attach sentimental value to the smallest things: a scrap of paper with crayon scribbles on it, a tea bag tag, a broken pair of sunglasses. Everything I own has a memory. But unfortunately those small things add up to messy piles that I just can't bring with me.
A sweet friend came over the other day to help me sort through my clothes. This task would normally take me hours, or not get done at all, because I would either 1) think about when and why I bought the item and come up with a scenario for it: "Twenty years from now if I'm backpacking through Europe/working at a swanky job/on a space mission to Mars I may need those pants!" or 2) get distracted and start looking through pictures and reading old letters. I did both before said friend came. She held up the clothes, and as I started down memory lane- Oh, I wore that on the first day....- she'd stop me and say, "I don't need to hear the story. Have you worn it, yes or no? You have five seconds to think...four, three, two, one." This was painful, because I had stories for every.single.piece.of.clothing that she held up, and for some reason I just wanted to share them! haha. But my friend meant business, and she helped me get the job done in an hour. I need more friends like her in my life.
Although, this whole process really made me miss my closest friends who would've sat and swam in those memories with me. Wish you were here, too.
Today another dear friend came over and helped price my memories items so that they'd be ready to sell next weekend. That was a blessing because I'd tend to price them too high, because their meaningful to me, or too low, because I don't want people to feel like I'm ripping them off. Thankful for an objective mind to do that for me.
So now I'm sitting in my room with empty drawers and closets--because not only did I clean house for the sale but I also packed the three US-bound suitcases I'm limiting myself to to see how much room/weight I have to play with--and (mostly) bare walls and I'm not sure how to feel about it all. I am...relieved to have this job done this far in advance, thankful for friends who are helping/encouraging me through this transition, hopeful that my treasures will be a blessing to others in my community. But mostly I am extremely heavyhearted because in nine weeks I'm leaving people and places that I love so deeply.
Ironically, goodbyes have been one of the most consistent things in my life over these past years. Since high school I've had to say goodbye to many people and places because (interesting fact) I haven't lived in the same physical place for more than 10 months. I've house-hopped 16 times in the past 10 years. 16! [I didn't realize it was that many until tonight: two different apartments with mom, one townhouse freshman year, two dorm rooms sophomore and junior year (and one during summer classes), two friends' houses, two rooms senior(x3) year, two apartments post-college, two apartments in Korea, two apartments in China. That's exhausting.] Not to mention the summers home living out of suitcases. You'd think that I'd get the hang of transitioning after all of that, but I haven't. It's always hard to say goodbye: to students, to pets, to possessions, to culture, to places, to foods that you may never eat again, to people that have walked through life with you and who you hope to see again. But I guess if goodbyes were easy, that would mean the time spent and lived in places wasn't well invested. It's great to plant roots (and to grow), it just hurts to be dug up and repotted.
Trusting that God's got a beautiful big pot waiting for me back home...and hoping its got at least a two-year lease ;)
So now I'm sitting in my room with empty drawers and closets--because not only did I clean house for the sale but I also packed the three US-bound suitcases I'm limiting myself to to see how much room/weight I have to play with--and (mostly) bare walls and I'm not sure how to feel about it all. I am...relieved to have this job done this far in advance, thankful for friends who are helping/encouraging me through this transition, hopeful that my treasures will be a blessing to others in my community. But mostly I am extremely heavyhearted because in nine weeks I'm leaving people and places that I love so deeply.
Ironically, goodbyes have been one of the most consistent things in my life over these past years. Since high school I've had to say goodbye to many people and places because (interesting fact) I haven't lived in the same physical place for more than 10 months. I've house-hopped 16 times in the past 10 years. 16! [I didn't realize it was that many until tonight: two different apartments with mom, one townhouse freshman year, two dorm rooms sophomore and junior year (and one during summer classes), two friends' houses, two rooms senior(x3) year, two apartments post-college, two apartments in Korea, two apartments in China. That's exhausting.] Not to mention the summers home living out of suitcases. You'd think that I'd get the hang of transitioning after all of that, but I haven't. It's always hard to say goodbye: to students, to pets, to possessions, to culture, to places, to foods that you may never eat again, to people that have walked through life with you and who you hope to see again. But I guess if goodbyes were easy, that would mean the time spent and lived in places wasn't well invested. It's great to plant roots (and to grow), it just hurts to be dug up and repotted.
Trusting that God's got a beautiful big pot waiting for me back home...and hoping its got at least a two-year lease ;)
