During my recent move from my home of nearly seventeen years to a much smaller place, I learned a lot about myself and my state of mind, my attitudes towards moving and many of my dreams.  I will be writing a series of pieces on the trials and tribulations of moving, on the lessons learned and even various things and incidents surrounding the move that may be of interest to others.  I also intend to write a special series on my experiences of being a foreigner in Sweden and its culture.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I sold my large house and planned to eventually move to the States.  Selling a home can be a source of income or a source of major expense, as it was in my case. After the house had been up for sale for nearly a whole year, I finally conceeded to sell the house at 30% under market value due to an expired contract with my ex-husband required his release from the loans after a certain amount of time.  After nearly two years, I'm inclined to agree that it was time to cut the cord.  The buyers are the handy types that buy, re-furbish, hold for a couple of years and then sell at peak price. A separate piece is forthcoming on the subject matter of both moving, packing and refurbishing homes.

I was so attached to the house that I had a hard time releasing the place - didn't even start packing until the last few days… this was a terrible mistake as I needed to get rid of 1,300 square feet of stuff that would not fit in my interim dwelling, which I signed for without even looking at it. I made the decision to get an apartment to ensure that I continued to have custody of the three children who still live at home. I had looked at about 15 different apartments.  There's a story to be told on how I finally ended up with this one.  Will publish photos with the story.

My first of four children and eldest son, a graduate student, and five of his friends, helped me move some of the furniture and lots of the boxes the evening before the moving van arrived.  The next day, two  professional movers in the morning and then three in the afternoon, moved the rest of the furniture, and my son returned with a couple of friends and continued to fill the truck that I had rented.  After 8 hours of work, there was still the basement floor to be moved.  Even though I had hired containers and thrown away things, as well as given away to charity, took things to the auction house and sold things on small ads, I still had 40 m2 or about 360 square feet of storage space to move from the house.  My ex hired a big trailer and he and his brother worked for two days, moving all this stuff to two different locations.  I stayed in the house during the whole time, four days, packing and cleaning.  I slept on a mattress on the floor for three nights.  On Sunday night, or rather Monday morning at about 2.30 a.m.,  I was finally "finished" with the cleaning.   I had washed the windows in the dark and the freezing cold - I couldn't see what the results would be.  But I knew that the new owners were going to do some major work before moving in so it wouldn't really matter.

During the move my right knee and foot became inflamed and I had black and blue marks all over them. I hadn't carried any furniture, but the packing was heavy and I must have pulled a muscle early on.  It started to swell on Thursday.  But because I saved all my packing for the last minute, I had to work "around the clock" and only rested four hours per night.  I wasn't hungry for days and didn't even feel any thirst, so I didn't really eat or drink more than once a day when someone came with something to eat.  I was so absorbed with all of the memories that the things I pulled out brought to life.  My body was a machine but my emotions and my mind were somewhere else.  When my ex finally drove me to my new home at 3.00 AM on Monday morning, I was an emotional wreck.  When we were riding the elevator to my floor, I began to cry.  I turned the key and opened the door.  I could hardly get in the place for all the boxes and things blocking the entrance.  Lucky my kids were staying at their dad's house during this time…  I cried myself to sleep on a bed full of stuff, surrounding by boxes of books, shoes, clothes, things that I would probably never use again.  It cost so much to move all this stuff - men lifted these things and worked hard to help me to move all the things that I could not release…  To this day, the piano, that cost an arm and a leg to move, that no one wanted to buy and that my ex refused to take, has not been played on.  The books are still in their boxes - no one misses them; my clothes stuffed into plastic bags because I don't have enough space for so many things.  I have to do some serious sorting of things and I have to do it fast… I can't stand to see the big plastic sacks full of clothes.

After the four days and nights of packing, moving and cleaning, I was physically incapable of moving.  My right leg, knee and foot was so swollen that I couldn't get out of bed when it came time Monday morning to go to the bank. My youngest daughter had to stay home from school to go to the bank with all the keys and papers and had to run home for me to sign them.  I rested just  a bit, but I was determined to get the place in order and make it liveable, so I set out to work on the place everyday, all day, causing my hurt kneee and leg  to become even more inflamed.  I called the orthopedic doctor's office and booked an appointment, but I know that what I really need to do is to rest enough so that the inflammation will subside and do the stretching that will help improve mobility. I will write a special piece on these kind of exercises.  They are goog to know when you are travelling because they can be done virtually anywhere and at anytime.

During this move, there was one thing that somehow didn't get packed and stayed with me during the entire moving period. It was the book called The Little Prince.   A separate piece on the Little Prince is forthcoming shortly.  Another thing that litterally dropped on my feet from "out of nowhere" included some motivational pieces, one of which is "Acres of Diamonds". I will have these available to my readers as free downloads shortly.  I want to address something in "Acres of Diamonds" in particular.  For years, I have dreamt of moving back to the States, which the abundant life "awaited me".  I have spent large sums of money on Internet marketing, on trips to the States.  I had convinced myself that the strategies that I had leaned would only work there.  However, on re-reading "Acres of Diamonds", am forced to re-think my situation.  The primary message in this essay is that we must seek to serve where we are RIGHT NOW, not somewhere in the unknown future, or some unknown place. I have "Acres of Diamonds" right in front of me, but I did not have eyes to see it with.  I believe that Russell H. Conwell wrote a universal truth; that there are immence opportunities for abundance and happiness where we are living right now.  We do not have to move or look somewhere else to find them.

 "Learn first what people need and then invest yourself where you are most needed. Success is almost certain to follow". "…supply a known demand."  After reading those words, I remembered how I had been repeatedly asked to perform a certain service here, a quaint reminder to search for "acres of diamonds" in my own backyard…

Angela Wickenberg