I am now 12 days into packing up for our move. As with all new projects, I jumped into the packing with verve and gusto. Then around day 10 I looked around and saw that I was surrounded by a mountain of boxes. Lots and lots of boxes. And beyond that more things to sort and pack. It seemed to be a never ending task. I felt tired, exhausted, overwhelmed. And I realized that I had come down with a virus. I had all the symptoms. Reading instead of packing. Sleeping instead of packing. Eating instead of packing. Doing anything instead of packing. I had become a victim of packing ennui.
Have you ever experienced it? It isn't specific to packing. It can attach itself to any activity - like a parasite. And it just sucks all the joy out of doing the activity. It might come when you are quilting or painting or (insert your activity here). It is what hits you when you find yourself doing any other activities you can think of BUT the one that usually brings you joy and pleasure. You have lost your drive, your passion, your enthusiasm, your heart for the activity.
It may sound crazy to hear that moving brings me joy and pleasure but it really does. I love the searching. I love the planning. I love the settling in to the new house. I love making my things work in new and different spaces. I am very excited about this move. I can hardly wait to live in the neighbourhood we are moving to. We lived there 15 years ago when our daughter was born. It is a neighbourhood where you can walk to the store, green grocer, pharmacy, etc in minutes. There are restaurants and coffee shops galore. A person could easily live in the neighbourhood car free and never lack for anything.
So, I let myself have a couple of days to get over the virus. I read. I slept. I ate way too much candy. I drove my husband crazy with my bad moods. I made myself do something the complete opposite of packing. I pulled OUT my school books and did some planning for the new school year. I created worksheets. I read a bunch of different blogs. I got excited about going back to work in September. My fire started to spark again. Once I felt that little spark I forced myself to pack a box. Just one. Lit-- tle--ba--by steps. And you know what? After that, I packed another box and another. And, voila!, my packing ennui is gone.
So, once again, I can say (with a smile on my face no less!) that: