There’s something special about moving from one place to another. It might be the taxis you take to the airport for the last time or the bikes you have used that you will never use again. It could also be the last train you took to go to that old classical bar you found in your favorite spot in the city.

torino

My first move was to Rosario when I was 17. Alone just for the first time in my life. Everything looked scary; even going to the supermarket for the first time looked like a task only accessible to adults.

But wait, am I an adult now?

What’s my favorite brand of cheese?

Then I moved again, a few blocks away from my first place, although in the same city. Next year, another move.

By the time I was 22, I had been moving around the city and wanted to settle just when COVID-19 changed society. After living a year alone, I decided to move to Europe and realized I was growing again.

I see moving as a state of mind different than living on an eternal vacation, and that’s why it is so stressful for me. For me, it’s more like a set of chained emotions that ultimately set a new personality on me, a new self.

You cannot deny that there’s something special about not being a member of society anymore, not being part of those coffee talks anymore, not being able to see friends & family for an extended period, and being the outsider while searching for “dreams.”

Some of us want to grow and kill that old, lazy self.

Leaving traces of the books I read, remembering movies I watched while sitting on a couch that is not mine anymore, and those are just now memories. Boxes all around, these same boxes that once were just an item in the shopping cart.

Moving is being able to allow new memories to exist. Everything in life takes time, such as going back home, so I keep moving.

I just decided to continue the grind and not take the time now. Just to, one day maybe, sit in peace and wait for that calm to come.

To realize we were being calmer all this time…