The first time I tried to fit my life into a 20 x 20 storage unit, I thought the task was impossible — however, I think I was up for the challenge.
But the square footage of the places that would house my things kept getting smaller and smaller — making the first packing experience back in Sarasota seem like a piece of cake in comparison. So this time, when Lou and I were facing our latest eviction, I made more cuts.
Lou and I were uncertain about where we were going next, but we knew we were facing a “checkmate” situation, and we really didn’t have any moves left. And I was on the edge of believing it was “game-over” for us by the time we moved out of our condo in Irvine. The only thing I did know for sure is that packing and unpacking my things over and over again made me really resent all of our stuff, and I wasn’t sure how many more times we could expect to line up the chess pieces again so we could start a new game… I was ready to concede the whole game of life, but I honestly didn’t know how to do that…
Giving up isn’t an option, so I regrouped again, and then did what I always do: I cleaned and purged.
I ended up donating our sofa to a church thrift store, and I unloaded box after box of other things that no longer had a place in my life. Each move Lou and I faced during The Imposition Tour left me feeling more raw and exposed than the last. But this time, I was deeply numb, and I sincerely started to wonder if my life would ever feel comfortable because of where we lived, or because of how many of our old things followed us to our next “home.” I had officially learned that I couldn’t count on a place to live or my belongings to comfort me for very long.
In truth, the let downs I was experiencing were altering me in ways that were crushing my hopes.
Lou and I had been fighting so much leading up to the day that the portable storage container arrived to be loaded that I don’t think he had enough energy to battle me over his “man furniture” the way he had in the past. He was tired, too.
So I think it was equal parts depressing and impressive that we were able to fit every single thing that still mattered (to both of us) into that small storage container. As we watched the truck driver lift the storage container onto the back of his flatbed truck, Lou held my hand. It was another tricky ending for us, but we were still holding on…
