I recently moved out of the house I lived in for two years. That is the longest I’ve lived in any place in the city of Richmond.
Before I left, I stood in the middle of the room to take this panorama of the space as it never again will be:
I spent two tumultuous and rewarding years in this room as I worked to resolve the dissonance of post-grad life. I printed photos, hung my art, displayed my books, and taped inspirational quotes and life lessons everywhere:
“Something is wrong. FIX it.”
“I went from, ‘How could I possibly do this’ to ‘ How could I possibly not?'”
“A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls.”
The night before I moved out of this room, I posted a photo on Facebook and wrote a long, emotional homage to my room and house of two years. Two weeks later, I had almost forgotten about it entirely. I moved into a new house, created a new routine for myself with new habits and a new environment. I have new roommates and a new city block with new neighbors to meet.
Also, I’ve realized that over the past few years I developed the habit of leaving unfinished business laying around. In the photo above, it’s on my desk (which I rarely used as a desk), on the floor, on my bed, on my bookshelves. Moving was an incredibly healthy process for me as I was forced to sort through all the unfinished tasks and gradually resolve each one.
So I’m glad I took this photo. I’m incredibly thankful for the two years I spent in this room, the two people that I shared it with, and a total of 15 guys with whom I shared the house. It’s a powerful thing to share a space with someone.
It’s a generous thing to remember.