leaving (… a lot behind)

by Erwyn van der Meer – cc by-nc-nd 2.0

We already have a lot of stuff. Oh boy, a LOT! Today when I get home, there will be two large boxes waiting for me. In those boxes are 40 moving boxes, 500m shrink wrap, 50 m bubble wrap, silk paper and other packing materials. We hope that’s enough to pack everything that is not sold, gifted or thrown away.

But even if it is, then we still don’t now where to store the stuff. Self storage seems ridiculously expensive. A couple of great friends have offered to take a couple of boxes, but the furniture is still pretty much uncounted for. Still, there are 7 Weeks to the day till our plane leaves. We will work it out, as always.

That is not (for the most part)Β what is on my mind right now when I think about what we leave behind. It really hit me when we went to say goodbye to my dad and his partner Silvia. Or when we talk with our landlords about renovating after moving out. Or setting up events with all of our friends here thinking: Maybe this is the last one of those?

It is sinking in now. We are not just leaving for a while, we are ending an episode of our life. That what comes after is different from that which came before. I don’t know whether it is going to be better, worse or just different. But no matter what, it will never be the same.

To end this one on a brighter note: In the end, I am still more exited than afraid. Energetic, hopeful and ready to depart on this adventure. Why? No matter how much will change, I know that there are good things down the road. Our families are great, and supporting. They will be there for us when we need them. We chose our friends wisely. I just learned that awesome people can stay awesome, even if you don’t see them for 10 years. Right now I don’t think it will be 10 years. And most importantly: Each and every adventure Nina and I went on has proven: There are great people out there. Things always work out (if you are not adamant on the outcome πŸ˜‰ )

>> On ne dΓ©couvre pas de terre nouvelle sans consentir Γ  perdre de vue, d’abord et longtemps, tout rivage. <<

>> One doesn’t discover new lands without consenting to lose sight, for a very long time, of the shore. <<

AndrΓ© Gide