The magic of moving

Moving to a new place always brings this very special kind of sensation. Nothing quite compares to it. It’s a feeling that never grows old. It’s what makes my heart beat faster. Or maybe what keeps my heart beating at all.

 

Wandering around, not specifically looking for anything, but just discovering whatever there is to discover. Diving into a new place, culture and chapter. Strolling through these streets that don’t mean anything to you yet and knowing that at some point they will. Being curious about and open for whatever a place has to offer. Not only exploring, and I mean not visiting, but really, truly, deeply exploring, a new place of the world, but also inside yourself.

 

 

I feel like every place triggers something very specific inside of me. Something that may or may not always have been there. Something that I have never acknowledged, seen or felt before. Basically, moving just moves me. Not only and not even primarily physically, but first and foremost emotionally.

 

I’ve experienced this so many times already and still find new angles to it every single time. The most obvious aspect is the material one. Moving, may it be for short-term or good, always starts with some sort of inventory: What do I have? What do I need? What will I bring? And while at first the gaps between those questions might seem like limits or restrictions, they turn out to be freedom at the end. The freedom of traveling, moving, living lightly. The freedom of the actual limits and restrictions that are solely created in our minds, constituted by the belief that we need everything that we have accumulated throughout our lives. The freedom of letting go.

 

And this does not only apply to the material, but also the emotional, personal and social level. When you move somewhere new, you only bring what you really think you need. Therefore, for me, moving always involves a process of decluttering in every sense and then consciously leaving, which even after all these years still brings some sort of heaviness. The kind of heaviness that you can’t quite explain, but that you can simply feel in your heart. The kind of heaviness you know won’t last, because it just comes right before the big relief. This very last second of holding your breath before you respire.

 

 

Because what follows is in my opinion one of the most beautiful things to experience in this life: Arriving. Again, not primarily physically, but mentally, emotionally. Really, fully arriving and as a consequence being entirely present. In a place, in a time, in yourself.

I have figured out by now that this takes me a couple of days, sometimes even weeks. That I can’t just go somewhere and really, truly be there immediately. But I have learned to honor these times of transition. I have learned to take my time. Time to arrive, time to explore, time to settle in. Time to arrange my material things and time to wait for my soul to arrive as well.

 

 

Somehow, moving somewhere new is like carnival: You can be whoever you want to be, do whatever you want to do. You get some sort of fresh start, a plank page that can be filled up as you please. You can start building up the life you took down somewhere else again. You can use old parts that still serve you, toss out the ones that don’t and add new ones as needed. You can rearrange, improve, adjust. You can create the life you want to lead, the person you want to be. And while I do firmly believe that essentially, you can always do all of that, I also know that it’s just so much easier when you have to transfer your life to a new physical place anyways. Because while you’re at it, you might as well rethink and rearrange the whole thing.

 

To be honest, the first couple of times I moved, I found all of this extremely tiring, complicated and difficult. I had too much stuff, too little of a clue what my life should actually consist of. But all of this has changed. Moving a couple of times each year helped me to minimize my material belongings, creating the freedom described above and also a lot of space – literally, financially and mentally. But it also made it very clear to me what the essential parts of my life are, what I need to take with me no matter where I go, both physically and emotionally. So while I thought for quite some time that moving was stressful, I don’t feel like that anymore. By now, I find it healing, cleansing and soothing. Paradoxically, I need it, in a way, to stay.

 

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One last day of looking back and being grateful for this passing year before I'll embrace the new one. 🙏🏽 2017 flew by and yet left its marks. At a first glance, it seems like a year of big life chapters coming to an end, major good-byes and me doing what I do best: Leaving. 🙋🏽 But at a closer look, nothing really ended that hasn't already been long over for me. No good-byes were said that weren't mostly just see-you-laters. And nothing was left behind that wasn't relieving to let go. 🤷🏼‍♀️ So what 2017 really was was a year of change so that new, exciting chapters can be written, a lot of hellos – not only to a whole bunch of amazing people, but also to new versions of myself – and me doing what I've always wanted to: Arriving. Not necessarily in a specific place, but on this wonderful path of a life that fills me with joy every single day. 🛤😍 #nofilterneeded #happyplace #lifegoals #reviewing2017 #nye17 #happynewyear #happyoldyear #throwback #endofyearreflections #gratitude #bigthingshappening #balancedlife #emtm #gonevegan #outdooryoga #lpgc #neverendingholidays #lifeisgood #ichoosefreedom #nomadlife

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Ein Gedanke zu „The magic of moving“

  1. Eva ❤️ Du schreibst wahnsinnig schöne und berührende Texte. Deshalb sag ich immer (und werd’s auch immer sagen): be eva! 😘
    #waswürdevajetztmachen #beeva
    Bussis aus Indien

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