As I duk tape the last of the packing boxes, and listen to Neil Patrick Harris on TV, I reflect on the things that I am grateful for.
Things I feel particularly grateful for today: sincere people, notebooks, tearsheets, organization, (anything that involves) mexican hot chocolate, news articles that make me angry, applications, classic movies, leftover brie, and finding long-lost negatives. Life is good.
I’ve moved nearly a dozen times in the past decade, but until this move, I never got any form of peace from the process. Dealing with nosy prospective buyers and inspectors; Moving back to San Antonio from Austin; Strangers touring my family house during all hours this summer have made a stressful four months. I didn’t get much sleep, I wasn’t able to work much at home, and I often had to throw all my story materials with my camera to leave five minutes before someone arrived.
My home became any place serving coffee and bagels. I learned to live out of suitcases and camera bags. I’m grateful that my family can begin settling into a new home, but I’m even more grateful to have acquired these new skills. I don’t find peace in a quiet house or incredible studio space (though I would love a new studio space), but I learned to find a sense of peace and calmness in myself.
I’ve hated this move, but I am grateful for every lesson I picked up along the way.