This post reminds me of a conversation Grinchy and I had recently. After living in Sydney for two months, Grinchy wondered if I felt settled yet. He did, since he started work over a month ago. Whereas I have been wandering the streets of Sydney, exploring neighborhoods (and doing altogether too much shopping).
I felt settled in the sense that I was comfortable in Sydney. I knew where the post office was. We had a bank, and could easily get money. I could relatively quickly rummage through my wallet and bring out the correct cash to pay for things. And I knew how to ride the bus and train.
Despite this, I didn’t quite feel settled. Partially it was because we had our stuff packed up and shipped (via slow boat) to Sydney, and therefore it still had not yet arrived. Which then made us wonder: “How much stuff does it take to feel settled?”
There’s the stuff that we couldn’t live without, which we brought on the plane with us.
- MP3 player
- cell phone (sadly, we had to buy new ones since the ones we had in the US didn’t work here)
Then, there’s the stuff that we really want to have. I was a really missing my cookware. Not that I cooked as often as I’d like to–but it was still annoying to be cooking with crappy pots and pans. The pot (that I used almost every time I cooked) with the wiggly handle was particularly annoying.
And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I am seriously attached to my stuff. Sure, I can live without it, but there are definitely things that I missed. Now that our stuff has finally arrived (yay!) and I’m in the midst of unpacking–unwrapping each item is like opening a present.
But I still have to be careful–and not get too attached to things. I’m already stuffing our apartment to the ceiling. I need to stop finding things that I love when I shop (or surf the web). Because there’s a definitely line between making a house a home, and being so settled down that you’re buried under all your stuff.