Without fail, every time I share our family plans to go global August 1, 2017, I am met with a mixture of excitement, envy, awe, and lots of questions. One of the questions (or many) are inevitably about logistics:
- Where will you live?
- How will you live?
- What about insurance?
- What about your son’s education?
- What about your health?
- Where are you planning to go?
- When are you leaving and when you are you coming back?
- What will you pack?
- Are you getting a storage unit?
- Are you selling everything you own?
The last two are what have been on my mind since we took down our holiday decorations. We were in a bit of a rush as we were heading out of town for our annual planning retreat, so I didn’t get to spend time savoring each personal ornament, recalling its story and letting the energy of those memories stay with me until we unwrap them the next year.
So here I am one week into the new year realizing that we will most likely not have any of our traditional ornaments this Christmas, nor will we decorate a tree as we have traditionally done as a family for the last fourteen years. We don’t have many traditions as a family because we are rather non-traditional, but this was one of them. And it’s not just the ornaments, it’s all the other little holiday things you collect and keep through the years.
It got me thinking about this process of becoming location independent global nomads and how much of it is exciting and forward-looking. It also made me realize there is a lot of letting go, processing of emotions, and changing of perspectives that are not necessarily going to be fun. I think it’s important to document both, to be aware of both, to feel all the emotions and feelings attached. It’s not healthy to try to only feel the excitement and energy of moving forward, but it’s also important to say goodbye gracefully and feel any sense of grief or loss that comes up.
So today I’m honoring the joy these ornaments have given me, the stories they tell, the memories they hold. We’ll keep the most *heart-valuable* ones in a storage unit, without knowing when we’ll see them again. Grateful to them for their service to making our family Christmas tree a delight to decorate each and every year.
What’s in your life that you could honor and say thanks for? Something you may have taken for granted, but would grieve its loss?
What other questions do you have for us? Broad-sweeping questions or nit-picky details, I’d love to hear them all. It makes me think deeply about some topics that we might not otherwise consider!