As I reported in last week's column, my hubby and I have been downsizing from a 3000 square foot house to a 1600 square foot townhouse.
Well, last week we made the move. Dishes were carefully wrapped, boxes were packed and stacked, and big burly men with arms the size of hanging hams came and transported the stuff of our life to a new location.
Fast forward to Monday -- exactly one week from the big M. We're in and I still have things that I don't have room for (or need) in our new digs. Every day, I've managed to fill at least three huge green garbage bags and two boxes for goodwill.
Not to mention that I think I have single handedly paid for at least one industrious plastic worker's kid to go to college -- owing to all the plastic storage bins, organizational trays and snap shut boxes I have purchased to store and organize my remaining belongings.
I am in awe at the industriousness that the plastic mavens have applied to creating clever ways to store, organize, manage and track stuff. At last count, I had made six trips to The Container Store, two trips to Bed, Bath and Beyond and three trips to the Ace Hardware.
In the middle of the big move we went to dinner with some good friends. We wanted to share about the transition we were going through and tell our tales. It turned out to be the perfect antidote to the chaos of the moment.
Over the course of the evening the four of us talked about the process of letting go of the old stuff and what if's in our lives and embracing being on the bridge in between the old life we just left and the new one we were in the process of creating.
"But the bridge is such a scary, uncertain, out of control place," I said.
"It is," said my friend. "But it's also an opportunity to let what's next evolve on its own. To have the fun of letting things organically take shape. Setting goals is great, but there is something to be said for trusting the process," he said.
As I listened, I could see that while I was on the bridge (and I will probably be there for a while), it was not a bridge to nowhere, but a bridge to somewhere -- somewhere fun and exciting and challenging and scary. One thing for certain: it's going to be the best organized bridge anyone's every seen.
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Karen Leland is author of Watercooler Wisdom: How Smart People Prosper in the Face of Conflict, Pressure and Change. She writes the Productivity Superstar column for Web Worker Daily. Read more at www.karenleland.com