My Bags Are Packed (Again)

Two out of three suitcases are open and look as if they are spilling their guts. The drawers are empty, except for my toiletries that I need tomorrow. I can’t believe that six weeks have gone by already since I arrived in Portugal to start my life over, and my time is up in the hostel.
Finally!
As always, I am leaving with more than what I arrived with, but there is nothing I want to leave behind except for my footprints. How does that cheesy old Barry Manilow song go?

We dreamers have our ways
Of facing rainy days
And somehow we survive

We keep the feelings warm
Protect them from the storm
Until our time arrives

Then one day the sun appears
And we come shining through those lonely years

I made it through the rain
I kept my world protected
I made it thought the rain
I kept my point of view
I made it through the rain
And found myself respected
By the others who
Got rained on too
And made it through

When friends are hard to find
And life seems so unkind
Sometimes you feel afraid

Just aim beyond the clouds
And rise above the crowds
And start your own parade

‘Cause when I chase my fears away
That’s when I knew that I could finally say

For those of you too young to know the song, here is what it sounds like:

It’s moving day tomorrow, and it will be the beginning of another great adventure. Once again, the reality and weight of my decision is just sinking in. I am moving to a part of Lisbon that I have never seen before in my life, don’t know a single soul out there, and will figure out how to get to work on Wednesday morning, which is pretty much how I started out six weeks ago. I’m beginning to see a pattern here…

But it’s Holy Week, and time to dwell on the spiritual side, the inner changes, and find strength in difficult moments. I just realised that I will be alone this Easter – not the first time away from family, but definitely the first time not to be surrounded be nearest and dearest. My original plan was to have been settled in my new apartment already and decorate a corner with Easter eggs and flwoers, but as an old Spanish saying goes “El hombre propone, y Dios dispone” (man proposes, the Lord disposes). So my plan was apparently not part of The Greater Plan, so who am I contradict it!

When I moved here I promised myself that I would surrender to the Great Unknown and allow myself to bend with the wind and follow where it leads me, unafraid of whatever I may end up facing. This is the country that is teaching me how to laugh again and appreciate the small things, restoring my sense of humour, and by God, my capacity to celebrate my life. Sometimes it is a little old lady on the bus who scolds me about my mask, others it is a man with the most beautiful hands I have ever seen and wished I could have photographed, and other days it is two Bangladeshi brothers running the store who wave to me whenever I pass by.

Will I miss the hostel? No. Absolutely not. But I will take away a brand new plot for a new book with me, and a lifetime’s worth of experiences to last me well into my old age (which, quite frankly, not that far away anymore). Someone once told me that I am living my life backwards, making up for the expriences I skipped or missed out on during my youth. I paraglided in my 50s, went sky diving in my 40s, had a baby in my 30s, and settled down in my 20s. So maybe I get to be carefree in and unimcumbered in my 60s?

All this packing is a sure sign that it is time to declutter again. So let me share this with you, not new to those of you who have been part of this blogging journey for a while now, but definitely new to those who recently joined.