Change is a good thing. At least this is what people have often tried to tell me. I am someone who is inherently cautious of change, despite having moved to a different country for my studies. Change to me usually equals the unknown, a concept I find very hard to accept.
However, once in awhile a change comes along, that even I can see is simply and unequivocally a good one. A change which I just know will make me happy and is the right new thing to do. At the beginning of June such a change occurred. I moved into a flat with my boyfriend Fraser and our own little adventure began. It has now been just over a month since I moved into the flat he was already living in and I can honestly say it has been everything I hoped it would be and more.
So, the result of moving is great, the process of moving, however, is pretty exhausting. Here is a short account of my move, I felt it was important to document this occasion in case I ever needed reminding that change can indeed be a great thing.
This was my room in my old flat:
At this stage not particularly tidy and with a whole lot of stuff in it. I hadn’t anticipated in any way the length of time it would take me to sort, pack and move everything. I was also amazed by the amount of rubbish it managed to generate.
One of the most important areas of my room was this little corner, as you can see here I carefully considered how best to transfer these valuable assets.
Somehow all these precious books had to safely make it to the new flat. This would require some serious planning and a few very heavy boxes.
With the books carefully stored away I could now turn my attention to the rest of the stuff in my room. And there was a LOT! University papers, clothes, CDs, DVDs, photographs, it just went on and on. Things I hadn’t seen since fresher’s week, and other items that I genuinely had no recollection of owning. Eventually it looked like a minor hurricane had whirled through my bedroom. A word of warning to those who have yet to experience these joys of packing, at some point during the whole process your room WILL look something like this:
It is a strange thing to see a room that you have lived in for three years stripped bare. I wasn’t sad to be moving, but it was hard to leave behind all the memories of that flat. It was the perfect home to spend my last three university years and will always be a place I look back on with great fondness. I am just lucky to be moving to a flat that I know holds the next important chapter in my story. The move was good and necessary, that doesn’t mean that there wasn’t a small part of me that ached at the realisation that I would never see that room again, and at the sense that this signaled the door finally closing on university life.
But I was eventually distracted from these thoughts by the growing excitement of seeing all
my things in the new flat. Piled on top of each other, clogging up every room in boxes, blocking the doorways, and just generally looking pretty impenetrable. It felt like a lot, it seemed like it wouldn’t all fit, but after three days of sorting, everything had its place. My stuff and Fraser’s stuff was finally together.
However, before all that sorting, the first and one of the most important thing needed to be accomplished. Last Christmas Fraser bought me a beautiful painting of Edinburgh. It holds great meaning for both of us, and we have discussed how lovely it will be to see it hanging in every place we live from now on. So as soon as we had settled in on that first day we found a place for it and the ceremonial hanging of the picture commenced.
And there it hangs, in our living room, an image of the city we both love so much.
On the first night, exhausted from all the packing, moving, unpacking etc., we decided to celebrate by going out for some delicious pizza, and then returning to the flat for our first evening of living together.
And here we are, a month later and not yet getting on each other’s nerves. It has been a great month and I feel it has definitely illustrated how wonderful change can be. I know that uncertainty is something that I will still struggle to accept. But there is a quotation from a song that Fraser and I both love, a quotation we intend to one day have hanging on the wall of the home we have created together: ‘If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there’. This is something I like to think about as change occurrs all around me. Because it reminds me that uncertainty can itself lead to some of the best adventures in life. Who knows what the future holds? At least we are facing it together!
P.S. With this view from our new flat, it seems the future is bright: