Cleaning

I have successfully moved back in with my parents, if you can accept using the words "successfully" and "moved back in with my parents" in the same sentence.  I have been working at my old job, attempting to locate employment elsewhere AND helping my mother sort through some of the things she has accumulated over the years with the end goal of condensing.  It has been a fairly successful endeavor thus far, and today we are switching rooms.  I have cleared out my childhood closet and am awaiting her say-so when the spare bedroom closet (significantly larger) is cleared.  I will be moving into the spare room and my room (slightly larger) will be transformed into a study/library/storage. 

It observing this move (my mom is currently carrying boxes from the closet into the hallway--and yes, I did offer to help.  This is apparently something she must do herself) that has compelled me to write.  First, the contemplation of the amount of stuff one accrues over a lifetime (and your offspring's childhood).  I mean, she is carrying box after box of things she has held onto for 20 years.  Things like little t-shirts and polos that my sister and I wore when we were 1 and 2, tutus and dance costumes from my sister's ballets, ceramics from my artistic days.  All things that are minimally significant to the naked eye but hold an intrinsic value.  She smiles tenderly upon observing the contents of each box (which she has not seen for at least 5 years as they have been behind a closed closet door). 

 As humans we hold on.  We attach emotional significance to everyday things and when those things are put in jeopardy, it affects us emotionally (and sometimes physically).  Imagine a fire.  Your home is set ablaze by someone with bad intentions.  What are those things you would most lament losing?    It is not the fact that your quilt would be gone.  You can certainly replace a quilt.  It is the fact that your grandmother made the quilt and she snuggled with you under it while watching TV when she would babysit.  It's those countless blanket forts you made in the living room with the quilt as the roof (because the quilt cast the best colors on your secret tea parties when the sun shone on the fort).  And now, even if you're 34 and your dog is the one who snuggles with you on the couch, that quilt on your bed (or maybe in a box somewhere) is a vital part of your heart. 

My father posed this same question to me once, if I had to pick one thing to save of all of my stuff, what would it be.  And being a child that was moved around as a kid, I lost somewhat the significance of things and places.  My photographs, however, retain their significance.  I would be devastated if I lost my photographs.  It would affect a very deep, secret part of me and I don't think I would recover entirely.  After this revelation, my father helped me back up my computer's picture files.  (Aren't parents great?)

But after all that, these are all just things.  They might hold great significance to us, but we can ultimately survive without them, even if it may not feel like it at the time. 



My second contemplation involves the move itself.  Hopefully more successful college graduates move home than just me.   I mean, I did slightly better than average (a 3.4 on a 4.0) in my academic studies.  Though, when looking at such an evaluation I feel obligated to point out that I was a double major double minor student who held a job (working 15-25 hours a week) and an internship.  In addition to that I maintained something of a social life, though seeing how some friendships turned out I often wonder what would have happened had I nixed that social life a bit sooner. 

But surely, there are college graduates who accomplished similarly in their academics who are also out of work.  Our bright minds bored, our bodies immobilized, seeking desperately a meaningful occupation. 

I recently skimmed through a book titled, Refuse to Choose and came to the realization that this book was talking about people just like me.  Widely curious, desire to pursue and excel at multiple careers at the same time.  Never satisfied with the knowledge we have, always driven to seek more.  She called these people "scanners" and detailed the difficulties of a job search using conventional methods.  I have since been on the look out for jobs in the unconventional methods she described, though I am somewhat at a loss about where to go from here. 

Mostly I would like to move to a place like Washington DC and start interning at all the different non-profits and exciting NGO's available in that environment, though I am quite worried that if I did so difficulties paying the bills would ensue.  So, I am here, waiting to bank some funds in order to go explore the headquarters of non-profit activity.