Newness smells like cheap plastic and styrofoam chips mixed with cardboard and a hint of pine. It fills my nostrils with each breath I take, embracing me with memories.
Moving again, and this time it WILL be better. I pack methodically and neatly to begin with, although I know I will start losing momentum and the boxes will tell on me. My meager possessions lessen as I throw out clothes I thought I would wear and cherished knick-knacks I no longer wish to remind me of their meanings. I make lists of what I don’t have and pretend to need, although I made do without them here. I am excited this time, as I always am and always soon forget. This is going to be it. I am going to plant my feet firmly on the ground I will shortly be on and no one will be able to uproot me. I will build my family there, make friends, be neighborly and never let anyone or anything send me packing. I smile as my last ten boxes get their ‘random’ label and bulky frame. All will be well.
And then…moving again, and this time it WILL be better.
I am shaken out of my waking dream by the whiff of dust and mold creeping out from under the covered counters. I look around my tiny abode, clean and ready, and find myself contemplating all my mistakes.
We never should have taken such a small place, maybe if we had more room we would have been happier here. We should have lived more central, or in the other part of town, where we would have more interaction with other people. And maybe we should have tried harder.
I sit down, overwhelmed by my wandering mind, and hold my heart gently and carefully. I will not let my thoughts bully me into hurting my fragile beating friend. My feelings soothed, I close my eyes and do the only thing I know I can do.
Moving again, and this time will be no different from the last. I will pack in my usual manner. I will be excited. I will look forward to the challenges to come. I will acknowledge my introversive nature and will not seek friends through the park, mall or supermarket. I will likely be happy at first, although I must have a strategy to combat my restlessness. I will make it work by not trying so hard to make it work.
My eyes open in curious wonder. I feel something lift off my aching shoulders as my mind works its way around me. I place my heart back where it belongs and tell it my new train of thought. The answering steady beat means we have united to reach one entire understanding.
I am at ease.
I am free.