Every Friday I write for 5 minutes with the word as the springboard.
Once when I was two years old I moved from the little house next to railroad tracks to a different house in a different town. I don’t remember moving, but I have heard the stories and seen the home movies. The movies were shown on the old projectors with the film that flapped when you reached the end. I haven’t seen them since elementary school. Filmstrips were used in middle school with a separate cassette tape. Time has moved on and so has technology.
The story underneath this one is that time changes perspective.
There are chunks of time I don’t remember at all. Why is that? Did shifts not happen? Am I blocking something I want to forget? Did I not have any transformations?
Once when I was eighteen I moved to college but there was no one to help me. I was the first person in my family to go to college and I do not remember any family friends that had gone either. I had to be resourceful and learn to pivot in the moment.
The story underneath this one is that I learned to depend on myself early in my life through experience, circumstance, and need.
Once when I was twenty one I moved to an apartment in a brand new town for a brand new job. “A real job” whatever that is. I don’t remember how we found the apartment and I don’t remember touring it first. I had no friends. I didn’t seem to fit. I threw myself into my work and came close to burn out in March of the school year.
The story underneath this one is that I learned extreme behavior to make changes to my life early in my career. I found a pattern that worked in the short term and followed it.
Once when I was twenty five I moved to a house I purchased. A real adult moment that left me feeling trapped. We lived there for less than a year because my Oma died and we moved back to my hometown.
I never wanted to move back there. My grief clouded my judgment and I said yes when I should have said no. It is one of the few regrets I have in my life. There are months I have no recollection of anything connected to the year 2000.
The story underneath this one is that I felt betrayed by a decision made at a highly emotional moment in time.
Once when I was forty six I wondered how much time I have lost in my own timeline.
The story underneath this one is the reason I write.