The earth rotates into the light of the sun here as it rotates away from it in New Zealand. The world is a big and marvelous place and life is both long and too short. Why spend your whole life in one country when you could also live in another? To each his own I know. Some of us feel so connected to the places we grew up in. Some of us don’t.
Countdown New Zealand
Today we left the biggest house we’ve ever lived in to begin our move back into a tiny apartment. I fear that the downsizing will come as quite a shock, even though we’ve lived there before and should know what we’re getting ourselves into. But after spending two weeks quarantined in a hotel room, perhaps our two room flat with its big views and access to hills and beaches only minutes away won’t feel so small after all.
The moving boxes left yesterday. All eight of them. I have no idea where their contents will go once we see them three or four months from now. Fortunately, that’s a problem for another day.
During the past few days as we’ve been squeezing items into boxes and duffle bags, we’ve also been trying to squeeze in time with the people we love. But there is never enough of it. It is such a waste to have to spend so much time dealing with stuff that there is not enough left over for people. This is another one of those repeating patterns in my life, one that I’d like to break.
Eight years ago, somewhere over Texas…..
New Zealand already seems like a lifetime ago even though it has been just 24 hours since we left the ground in Auckland. Here we are, still in transit.
After so much time invested in the last two months, it seems unfair that the memories, the feeling, of being there can pass so quickly. More lessons in impermanence, a reminder to take care of each moment because it is already in the process of dying. Travel only takes us away during the time it is occurring. As soon as we stop moving, the old, sedentary world comes rushing back into all the spaces that were so recently filled by the wind rushing past as we soared down mountain passes in the Southern Alps on our bikes or bloated by views of an endless blue sky set against the green of the sea and yellows and browns of the land.
Below us now, the Mississippi is meeting its end in a tangle of channels, lakes, and marshes splatter painted in a fan across southern Louisiana. Its waters are becoming a part of the Gulf of Mexico. Our path will likewise be splintered as the demands of jobs, others, and our own distractibility, plugged in once again, take us out in many directions at once. We must strive to find the channel, the depth in our lives that can guide us to what is true and of value.