The Practice of Moving: Three Lessons

Boxes sit in every room. After only 30 hours on the market, I sold my favorite house that I have ever lived in, one that felt as if it had been a gift from the Universe. It turns out I have neither the skills nor the mindset to own a 105-year old house, so I look forward to handing it over to someone else. I hope they love it as much as I have.

Moving is considered a huge life event, and this is the third time I’ve done it in as many years. I’ve learned a few things along the way, whether I’ve wanted to or not.

First, moving is a practice, just like yoga and meditation. You have to be ready to deal with whatever arises. That might be the frustration of a 45-minute call to cancel internet. It might be the clawing fear of the unknown, since I will be essentially homeless for a month until my next place opens up (thank God for family and friends). It might be the grief of giving up this healing and beautiful space, even though I know it’s the right thing to do.

To help me keep the right mindset in my yoga practice, I set an intention. A guiding principle, if you will. Off the mat, I often do that with my jewelry. If I need to trust, I wear the Celtic cross my father gave me. If I need to remember my self-worth, I wear the locket with gold flakes inside. Right now, I need to surrender and flow, so I’m wearing the gold silhouette of a fish right above my heart.

I am also wearing a knotted ring. That’s the second lesson—deciding what I want to hold onto right now. Moving is a chance to come face to face with whatever it is you are carrying around.

My favorite tv show is The Great British Baking Show, and when something is amazing, one of the judges is known for saying, “This is worth the calories.”

As I’ve been packing, I have been asking myself, “Is this worth the space and weight it will take to move it?” Seems like a good thing to ask about memories and grudges as well. What are the things I’m holding onto emotionally? Are they serving me? Or are they taking up too much space? Weighing me down?

Okay, but let’s be honest. Some of the things from our past are less ugly sweater and more cocklebur, what has been called “nature’s velcro.” It can feel impossible to pull those clinging things off. The work takes patience, intention. And maybe, like moving, it’s important not to try to do it all in one fell swoop. Do what you can, honor what you’ve done, and save the rest for another day.

The last lesson is related to a story I recently read somewhere. The gist of it was that whatever is present right now is the Buddha. I took that to mean whatever is present is there to teach you.

If I am crying because of grief, that is the Buddha. It doesn’t mean my decision is wrong. It means I have loved deeply, and now my path leads in a different direction.

If I am afraid because I don’t know exactly what is coming next, that is the Buddha. This is a lesson I need to learn again and again. There is so little we can control, but in that moment of fear, what will we do? We can turn toward the tangle and thrash. Or we can turn toward our center, breathing and making the next best choice, given the information we have.

If I am thankful because of family and friends who show up for me, that is the Buddha, reminding me that relationships matter. They take work and intention. They bring blessing and comfort.

I am not the only one moving. We are all moving through our lives every moment of every day. We are all practicing being with whatever arises, deciding what we will carry with us. We are all being presented with opportunities—to face what is, to learn what we can, to free ourselves from what is weighing us down, to love, to center, to breathe, to shine.

Live light.