When I was 18 I moved across the country to go to college. At the time my life was contained in four big boxes. They held pretty much everything I owned and for the life of me I can't remember what was in them. I am fairly certain that some of the things inside are still with me all these years later. They say home is where the heart is, but more often than not it's where we keep our stuff.
It's a strange thing to move, although really not all that uncommon. You get a chance to look through all your possessions and decide what comes with you to the new place (or back to the old place depending on your circumstances). For me it's always been a great way to shed a lot of material weight. Maybe it's hold over from that first big move where I only had the four boxes so I tend to travel light. Moving forces you to evaluate the importance of everything you own. Now you may have money. You may have hired movers. You may have nothing but time to plan and prepare. In that case maybe you don't really have to evaluate anything and instead decide to take everything, including the ice cube trays from the freezer. I tend to treat it like a backpacking trip somewhere. How much of that stuff do you really want to be carrying around with you?
It was said in Fight Club "The things you own end up owning you." You can't just move across the country at the drop of a hat because your couch needs a lift. That fantastic entertainment center has to be broken down and carried in pieces down the stairs. Once upon a time I was given a Foreman Grill. At the time I thought that I didn't need it and would never use it. For months it sat in a cabinet, where I had almost forgotten about it. Then for some reason I decided to use it. Once I did I asked myself how I ever got by without it. I wonder how often that happens. We're suddenly convinced of a need we didn't know we had until it was presented to us. How much of the things we own are around because we've come to believe that we couldn't live life without them? Now I'm not against owning stuff. I like stuff. Everything feels so temporary though. When I go furniture shopping (once a decade) I look at things in terms of not only form and function, but in mobility. Sure that bookshelf/CD rack combo is nice and will hold 500 of my favorite titles, but it's made out of the densest material known to man (pressed particle board) and will take at least three people with hand carts to move it. Then again owning furniture that's exclusively made from wicker is a little too far on the other side.
Back when I was 18 I had only lived one place, so moving anywhere was new and unknown. I know a lot of people who have never left their hometown and there's nothing wrong with that. Moving to some far off place that you've never been before isn't easy, especially if you're doing it on your own. In fact I've only ever done it twice. Since then I've been doing the cross country shuffle back and forth between two primary locations. I wonder though if location is like possessions, it owns you. Most people have a life, or what passes for a life, in their town. Friends, family, work, school, obligations, hobbies, and whatever else makes up a life. Moving means that those things are either going to be severed or at the very least drastically altered. If you relocate to another state or city you have to start the process of reestablishing all those connections. A cynical person would see it as starting the process all over again.
Given the way things are going I wonder if there won't start a trend of people being a bit more nomadic. It used to be a person would live in a single town and possibly work at a single company their entire life. That doesn't seem to be the case anymore. Sometimes in order to live a person has to pick up and move away because essentially they're following the food supply. It used to be the buffalo. Now it's the job market. Maybe home isn't a singular location anymore.
