My life in 18 Gallons.

So iM moving. To Ethiopia. To live in a small rural village. There I will work on a self reliance program I spent the last 6 months developing. There I will farm. There I will teach mothers to be self reliant. There I will learn from the people. There I will [grow/change].

I leave in 17 days. I still have 4 days left of full time work. I have a lot of program development to do, oh and I have to completely pack my life and stick it in storage.

I’ve been packing, slowly. Not because I am afraid, or don’t want to go anymore. Simply because packing is a lot of work & I hate it.

It is weird to see your life in 18 gallon Tupperware bins. Books, DVDs, pictures, projects, trinkets that make up who you are. Random artifacts from your life that show your intricate tapestry of experiences.

A letter from a brother who lived overseas.
A worn paperback that provided entertainment and comfort.
My favorite pen that has been out of ink for years- I STILL hope I can find it each time I walk into a stationary store.
A baby gift I forgot to give
a card
a note
Pictures.Ticket Stubs.Play Bills.
an old journal

is this the proof that I lived?
How do I reconcile my entire existence with a stack of bins.

It is the one time I wish I wasn’t exactly so single. That someone else would be a witness to my life. So that boxes full of stuff weren’t the only proof that I lived & loved. So that someone else could say- I was there, it happened & it was just as great as Celina said it was.

Instead I will file away my life. I will lock it up safely in storage. And go out into the world to create new memories. Experience new heart ache. & add to my life tapestry. One unknown day after another.


That is, if I can get all this stuff packed in time.

♥ Sinlge Girl