Finding Independence

Happy 4th of July!

On this Independence Day I wanted to talk a bit about finding independence--freedom, really--as part of settling into a new situation.

In the last 10 days we bought a car and received and unpacked all of our stuff! I know, doesn't sound like such a big deal, right?

The car search was slowed by several factors (mainly available inventory and price versus perceived reliability). But now that we have our own means of regular transportation, we can start our journey down the list of things we want to do.

The journey to get our stuff? Well, that was much longer and more stressful...

Some dates for reference:

• Larry left Munich in late January. He camped and spent a few nights with his new boss until moving into our (empty) place at the beginning of March.
• The movers departed our Munich apartment on April 9 and our stuff left Germany on April 14.
• The cat and I left Munich on April 30.
• Our stuff was supposed to arrive in Honolulu on June 7 and then be transported here to Maui for delivery.

To make a very long story short, our moving coordinator was horrible. She only contacted us when she needed something (forms, payment) and was otherwise unresponsive. Eventually, after emailing her repeatedly for a status on our stuff, we found out she was no longer with the company. (Wonder when someone was going to get around to telling us that?)

without mentioning any names, don't use this company for your move

Turns out our replacement coordinator was equally unresponsive. So, after tracking down and pestering the person who'd filled in for our first coordinator during an absence, we finally got word that our stuff had arrived--two weeks later than the original schedule--and we would be contacted by a local affiliate to arrange delivery the following week.

Now, I am a worrier. And when things don't go according to plan, I assume the worst-case scenario. In this instance I had two top contenders: 1) our stuff was lost and no one had the decency to tell us they couldn't find it or 2) there was an international conspiracy to loot our shipment, hence the delay and lack of communication.

[Just so you don't think I am unreasonably paranoid, we were given the information for the ship (supposedly) carrying our stuff, but after the projected arrival date passed and we had no word, I looked up the ship's itinerary online. It had not been, and was not scheduled to be, anywhere near Hawaii. In fact, two different tracking sites showed its location as the North Sea at that time.]

I thought about what it would mean, in either loss scenario. Rebuilding 20 years of collaboration and comfort. To be honest, there was a tiny part of me that was a little excited about the prospect of truly starting over. Of gaining freedom from the past and the expectations that come with it. But then I thought about the irreplaceable things we might have lost. And the idea of buying new things with an eye toward the convenience of the next possible move was just depressing.

Another thing we were not told: our stuff was
delivered in a 40-foot container, not the 20-foot
that had been referenced all along.
Had we known it was shared space we would
have been prepared for a delay. And had we
known it was going to be a bigger container,
we would have prepared the neighbors
in our small cul-de-sac!

Still, when the container arrived, I was conflicted. Same old life, different location? Or same great life, different great location? And the skeptical worrier in me still suspected there had been a screw-up and when they started unloading it wouldn't even be our stuff!

But it was, and it was like greeting many old friends. Thankfully I'd had two months to measure and obsess over where things would fit in a space that was only 2/3 the size of our last place. There were a few hiccups that meant some last-minute rearrangements, but it fit and...it felt really good.

When we moved to Hamburg and then to Munich, many people were surprised we brought everything with us. A lot of people told tales of getting rid of everything and coming abroad with just a couple of suitcases, and at times I felt defensive about our decision.

Should we have been more carefree? It certainly would have been easier on our finances upfront. But then I thought about how people don't criticize military or diplomatic officials when they do the same thing. Why is our comfort any less important?

On the "To Do" list for next week:
hurricane emergency kit assembly
and lots of hard thinking about
what's really "irreplaceable"

As a child I moved every few years and the choice was not mine to make. But I loved the life. In fact, as an adult, when the choice has been clearly mine to make, I've never lived in one place more than four years at a time.

Larry and I are homebodies. We like the trappings of the familiar. And we've realized it's okay that we don't really want to drop everything but a backpack and sleeping roll to start over each time we move.

I had plenty of adventures overseas where I struck out on my own to explore. I suspect I have more to come. But coming back to what feels comfortable is how I recharge. It's how I feel more like I'm at home and living my life than merely existing somewhere temporarily.

And yes, if one of my moving-disaster scenarios had occurred or (more likely) a natural disaster strikes, we would of course need to pick ourselves up and start over like many people have to do all the time. But when you have a choice, it's okay to make the choice that in your heart you know works best for you.

Because knowing what you do and do not need for your own peace of mind, your own creativity, your own sense of self--that, to me, is true independence.


Check out the "before" and "now" pictures of our new place here.