The moment between moving is often one of a special type of clarity. During each of these transitions, whether with family moving to new continents or alone across states, the feelings are similar. It's when my mind lives in both places. I can look back and think about its lessons and experiences, and look forward to the awaiting stories. It's not ennui. But it's rather a more positive feeling, pausing between rushes of time. It hints at hope and some quiet excitement. It's wakes me up a bit.
And then I pack my bags and leave for the new place, settling into the new and leaving much of the old. (Of course this implies some psychological confusion while moving in and out of Ithaca amongst different places.)
This makes me wonder how fantastic it will be to finally go home, though hopefully not for many decades.
Listening: Like Incense/Sometimes by Step - Hillsong Live
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