But, come to think of it, what about life is actually easy or simple? Life, especially if one intends to make the most of it while traveling the world, is often confusing, perplexing, infuriating, sticky, itchy, wet, nauseus, awkward, uncomfortable, and at the least, challenging. But isn't it true that those moments when we feel especially challenged or uncomfortable, are often the times when we learn the most about ourselves? And then the memories of that nauseating bout of salmonella poisoning and the dizzying bus ride through the Andes quickly fade and leave only the sweet, rich moments of sublime beauty and happiness. It's when you know there is no where else in the world you would rather be than standing on the edge of a cliff gazing down at Machu Picchu, watching as the sun breaks through the morning mist around the surrounding mountains. I don't want easy or simple. I don't want to read about it in books, I want to live it, do it, breathe it. I want to be changed by it.
Whether you are moving house, apartment, den, nest or moving to the other side of the world to Abu Dhabi, moving is one of these difficult, non-simple tasks, that you know will eventually pay off in the end but in the moment, it's hell. One good thing is you can really learn a lot about yourself when you look at all the crap that you own. At the moment, I am in the process of packing up the contents of my small but lovely one bedroom apartment to fit into a 7x10 storage unit in Etobicoke, a suburb of Toronto. I have collected at least 80 boxes from my local LCBO and they are piled in a tall, leaning-tower-of-Pisa-esque pile in the corner of my already narrow hallway. They are about to be filled with the contents of a lifetime of collecting and scavenging objects - my stuff: lots of books, paperclips, foreign currency, rocks, photos, marbles, weavings, Christmas ornaments, bits of papers with profound quotations; small, decorative stuffed animals (and possibly by accident, some live ones), and other bits and pieces like pots, pans, plates, cups, saucers and marionettes. And what have I learned about myself, you ask? That somehow I accumulate weird things like paperclips. And I must travel a lot.
And how to distinguish what I need to bring with me to Abu Dhabi (passport, long skirts, abaya) and what I don't need to bring (possibly my cross-country skis - oh, wait...there is that ski hill in the mall in Dubai...), is quite perplexing at the moment. This is quite possibly the reason I have chosen just another way to procrastinate: start a blog.
On a positive note, moving can really be the impetus that you need to purge a lot of the stuff that you have collected over the years that serves no purpose anymore but to collect dust and clog the window fans. Also, it's a good reminder of what is really important; family and relationships with friends are the keepers. And memories that you can take with you wherever you go and you don't have to worry about weight restrictions. Except if the memory of that blissful but monstrous buttertart you had at Marty's World Famous Cafe in Bracebridge on the Canada Day long weekend, actually materializes on your hips. Oh well.
It will all get done - Inshallah (If Allah wishes). I am going to be using that phrase a lot in Abu Dhabi so I better get used to saying it.
Here I go. Off on another scavenger hunt...off to collect new and life-changing experiences, friendships, and memories and maybe a magic carpet or two.
I'll let you know when the Beautiful Camel Contest is on...
