I have a box that is not unpacked from our last move. We’ve lived in our place for almost two years which is a long time for us. We seem to be moving around a lot due to changing jobs in different cities, or we need more space, or decide to downgrade then realize that we needed the space and move again. I think I’ve moved over 35 times in my 41 years. Even though I said I wouldn’t, I’ve become my mother, she seemed to have this obsession about moving around for some reason or another. It’s not my intention to move around so much and it’s tiresome to be moving around all the time, but it’s part of the journey, my journey. If I didn’t move around so much I wouldn’t have seen all the beautiful places I’ve lived in, or have worked at the most beautiful resorts in Western Canada. It’s true when they say “Everything happens for a reason”, it’s so true when you are presented with an opportunity and you open the door and walk right through to the next place you know is part of the journey. I love serendipity.
The only reason why I haven’t unpacked the last box is purely based on space and I need another book shelve. The last box is filled with random books. I’m a bit of a book junkie and I hold onto my books that I’ve collected over the years, they tell more than the story that is written on the pages. They tell my story, what I’ve read during each journey, each stage of life. I love standing in front of my book shelves and looking at my books, The Celestine Prophesy lead me to healing books and a journey of self-healing and a spiritual journey that I’d been on since I can remember. The Artist’s Way, awakened the artist within me that was struggling to be set free, Floor Sample, Julia Cameron’s memoir that lead me to my journey of writing my story. Each book was for me to learn more, to expand my world to more creativity, more literature, to my writing life.
When I was younger the last box that was left unopened was usually a mixture of books, old tapes that I’d stop listening too, but maybe want to hear Anne Murray at some time again or random papers with story ideas. My imagination was full throttle and really hasn’t stopped. I don’t day dream as much with the story ideas, I sit down and put the ideas onto the page so I can go back to them. For example, it’s really foggy out this morning and I’m thinking about a story where either a terrible thing happens in the fog or a beautiful thing happens, who are the characters, what terrible or beautiful act can be done to start the story off? Who is the main character, will it be a man or woman or both? Is it a love story or a mystery? This is creativity (or at least my creativity) at it’s best, just letting the story unfold, giving life to characters that have something to say.
The last box is part of my journey, will we move again? Deep down I don’t know if we’ll stay in Victoria for the rest of our lives, but for now it’s home and honestly I am happy with the friendships that have been established, that connect us with each other, that connect us with the community. It’s home base for us now, however I know if the universe has plans for us then we will be ready with welcoming hearts. At least we’ll have one box started.
Until next time…keep on typing.