Life- Memories Scattered in Plain Brown Boxes

Here I sit. Another day is coming to an end, as the light of evening fades behind dark and ominous clouds of ice and snow. Slipping into my special little dip in the sofa, I find that unique spot where I end up nearly every evening. This is peaceful. Quiet. The only interruption of absolute silence comes from the grandfather clock across the room. Marking each second with a distinctively rhythmic tick, as the golden pendulum's reflection warps the image of the room with each brief oscillation. Time is passing slowly, while thoughts of what seem to be multiple levels of consciousness are fleeting. Sitting here, in this peaceful and quite room, I struggle to truly live in this present moment. My mind constantly races from the future to the past; flipping back and forth like a fish stranded on a dry-dock suspended above water. My heart wants to be in Washington state while my mind attempts to mull over the endless pile of details. For example, boxes. You know the type--simple, typically brown, square or rectangle. Cardboard Boxes. When a person is considering moving, often boxes represent a brief moment of consideration among a plethora of more important details. For me however, boxes are not just a simple feature of some grand plan. Boxes are so much more complicated than you expect.

For nearly two months, I have researched boxes. I have looked into the different types, sizes, shapes, numbers, and prices of these corrugated commodities. With each step of the way, I have been saying: "I'm going to buy some boxes either today or tomorrow,and then start packing". Two months later, I am still box-less. I suppose, the real issue is packing. I really want to start boxing things up, so there is less to packing to do later. This seems to be the sensible thing to do. However I haven't started yet, in part because I don't have any boxes yet from which to pack. Maybe in reality, I stall at getting boxes because I still fear some parts of this life-changing commitment to move. Almost by stalling, I am delaying reality of my choice. Let me not be misunderstood, as I don't at all regret the decision I have made. I am just trying to deal with the reality of a cross-country move on my own. Once I actually start to pack, things should start to move more quickly. Boxing will be one of the first tangible aspects of this move. I will start to pack away my memories of Holland, and prepare my mind for Washington. 

Just yesterday, I was speaking with a few of the nurses I work with, God bless their intelligent and wise souls, as they tipped me off to some free boxes that are always available through the hospital. I ended up asking some of the housekeeping staff (A.K.A. boxing saints) to help me locate some of this free merchandise. When I left the hospital last night, I had acquired one medium-sized brown Avagard box. My first box! :) 

I suppose once I start to pack this lonely little box, the reality of this big move will really start to hit home. Its hard to believe that soon enough my entire apartment, my entire home for the last two and a half years will be as empty as the day I moved in. It's funny really, I almost feel like Im abandoning a close friend. I've really enjoyed Holland over the last five years. Time seems to have gone by so quickly, as though the parabolic-pendulum that warps my little room has bent the fine fabric of time in this chapter of my life. How did I get here? How have the countless number of events and details of my life led me to this dip in the couch where I now sit? This chapter is nearly over. Im about to turn the page. I can't believe how quickly it is going now! I grab the corner of the page and turn... 

The clock strikes the hour, as my mind snaps back to the present. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.