You will pack your bags

You will throw things away.

 

You will throw things.

 

Against the wall

All over floor

In protest of it all.

 

You will get so uncomfortable you want to tear off your skin

You will resist, you will bargain, you will grief.

 

Moving is my least favourite part

When you come to a realisation that this? 

Is not where you want to be. 

Is no longer who you are.

That you’re now being asked to drop

The values

The beliefs

The lies

That once so comfortably wrap around you

Shielding you from the truth that there is far, far more that you deserve. 

 

Moving

Is painful

Is exhausting

Is often all-consuming.

 

When we sit with our ghosts

Unpack the lives we once knew.

This was from when you were 7

And shamed for the way you look.

This was from the day you were convinced that no matter how hard you try, you will never be good enough.

This was that moment of shame that stayed.

This was the day you believed no one is in your corner.

This is the day, it’ll all begin to change. 

 

Moving

Is uncomfortable

Is groundless

Is standing on the edge of the unknown

And repeatedly whispering to yourself

I don’t know if I’ll survive.

 

Moving

Is fear

And it’s freedom. 

 

And when given the choice between the two?

We must choose to move.

For the discomfort of change is far better than the regret of standing still. 

 

-

I started the bones of this a few months ago, not clearly knowing what it would look or sound like.

In the recent months, I've had friends who've been going through their personal transitions as I moved through mine - from moving homes, to shedding old selves, sitting with heartbreak, facing failure and finally owning who they truly are and want to be.

I trust that it has been anything but easy for any of us. I've been personally sitting and simmering in a place where I've been confronted with my own beliefs and values I have been given - working through what's worth keeping, saving, owning and what no longer serves me. What have I been handed and what can I now discard?

We collect so much shit throughout our lives - whether by choice or otherwise - and when you're finally willing to go into that dark attic or basement and sift through the things that are just taking up space, you can finally, and often painfully, let go.

I guess this piece is a reminder, for myself and anyone who needs it, that if you're in that unknown space right now? You just have to keep moving.

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Daytime copywriter. Co-author at Pens&Lens. Skilled at befriending strangers just so I can pet their dogs.