Rootless/Rootful

We bought our first home recently and it is still filled with boxes and bits of cardboard and trash that needs to be taken out (but how? when is trash day? I don’t know).

The neighborhood is nice, but not so nice as where we were renting, and a little further away from work and what not.

Homeownership has never been a dream of mine. It’s not something I object to and there’s no doubt it will be an important generator of future wealth, but was not something important to me as a thing, in and of itself.

The process is one of dislocation. My routines are dislocated and left rootless. My budget is a mystery. I have less money now. I even know approximately how much. But I don’t really know what that means. Certain luxuries, yes. And, yes, I am frightened of that. There was a line in the movie Pitch Black to the effect of, it is amazing how well one can do without the necessities of life, if one has the little luxuries.

But mostly change. My life has always been about change, which meant it was also about not changing for the sake of change. Change happened enough on its own. The rest was about limiting change. This was deliberate and optional change and is the more disconcerting for it.

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