“The heavens themselves run continually round, the sun riseth and sets, the moon increaseth, stars and planets keep their constant motions, the air is tossed by the winds, the waters ebb and flow, to their conservation no doubt, to teach us that we should ever be in motion.”
-Robert Burton
In a self-admittedly audacious move, I bought a one-way ticket to Seattle, assuming–hoping–banking that I will have few enough possessions to make it on the plane without weighing down the undercarriage. It was originally my intention to drive out to Seattle. Take on the open road, explore the terrain that fills the space between my current and soon-to-be stomping grounds; go the way of Lewis, Clark, Kerouac (post-Desolation Peak sequester), and Cobain (pre-self-inflicted death).But seeing as how my increasingly clunker-ized Saturn is a perfect candidate for a chic new government program and not a 1339 mile road trip, the $90 plane ticket from DIA to Sea-Tac seemed a most attractive option. You know, in these tough economic times and all. However, the late Bruce Chatwin would certainly disapprove of my apparent middle-finger extended towards the natural order: “Adrenaline is our travel allowance. We might just as well use it up in a harmless way. Air travel is livening up in this respect but as a species we are terrestrial. Man walked and swam long before he rode or flew. Our human possibilities are best fulfilled on land or sea. Poor Icarus Crashed.” You got me, Chatwin. I’m a sell out. Shoot.
I am learning to love my dearth of possessions. It’s like the you-know-who’s that packed duffel bags and five gallon jugs of water in anticipation of the Y2K pandemonium. I have established a life that facilitates a painless and expedited escape from where ever I may be living.
I do ask myself, with absurd frequency, when might I decide to settle down in one place. I usually have no answer to my own question. It is true that I will be relatively settled in Seattle. It will take me two years to graduate. But where will I be after that? Hawaii? Phnom Penh? Memphis? Botswana? Your guess is as good as mine. And that is, I think, what it’s all about. I like not knowing where I will wind up. I’m wired to move. It’s not the destination, so much as it is the anticipation and the process. Move I have, move I am, and move I shall.
Hey Joel. A buddy of mine is moving to Seattle to start a grad program in immunology. You guys might like each other. He knows about the PC, even visited his friend in the mother-of-all: Mauritania. Look up Matt Beuchler.
I used to be able to move with everyting I owned in suitcases on a plane. Then it became suitcases on the plane and a couple of boxes in the mail.
Now that I’ve lived in Seattle for 5 years and with Kyle in the same apartment for 3 years… it scares me to think about when we move. We want to move in a year or two to a bigger place with an extra room for family (his son, my dad, whoever).
It’s going to be a painful move. We have SO MUCH STUFF. Kyle alone has an entire closet full of action figures. I have boxes of stuff that I obviously don’t NEED because I’ve yet to unpack some of the stuff I moved here with.
I think that when we do move, it’ll be time to purge… and to buy shelves and organize.
Good luck and safe travels!
Maybe once you’re settled in, we could go do coffee sometime… because, you know, that’s the Seattle thing to do.