The moving year

This past year will probably be remembered as a year of movement. Not in the sense of going who knows where to see, to visit or to experience. Not like in a holiday. When I refer to movement I relate to people actually moving from a place to another. From a town to a city. From a city to another country. And when I speak about 'people' I include myself, having moved to a new building at work and to an old but renovated house to live in. But the same goes for most of my friends, colleagues and family. It's like everybody got some kind of moving disease, causing severe needs to change the roofs over our heads. To carry around big boxes with stuff we not remembered having. To see the guys from Ikea come and go to dismantle and put together once again crappy wardrobes and bed frames. And to have to ask for directions, driving around in some oversized rented van, going to the place we will be living, but sarcastly not yet properly knowing how to get there.

Or maybe it simply is the age. Maybe we are arrived at a point whereby changes are not only wanted, but moreover needed. As a necessity. As a invitation to change. So let's change. Let's taste the new, the different and the adventure. Change is an intrinsic part of who we are and how we live. Go for it. Change and keep on changing. Just do not forget to remember who you are.