this christmas, i'm a vagabond.

i'm glad that packing all my earthly belongings still isn't completely foreign to me. and you know, i still got it in me. i mean, it's genetic.

my family is short-selling our house. that means get ready to go at any time. after moving at least 11 times in my lifetime, i've learned to prioritize what to keep and what to leave behind. nevertheless, it's all going to burn. but i love how God gives us the ability to loosely hold on to things that have affected our souls for the timebeing.

more and more i'm learning to keep less and less.

less clothes that, in the words of ben gibbard, "hang like ghosts of people i've been."
less stuffed toys (except russel. i'm never giving away russel).
less shoeboxes of stupid "friend"ships past (except that one *points*).

more photographs that i've taken since i've met you (those are the only ones worth keeping).
more notebooks filled with words i would and could never say out loud (except that one fiction "work." i'm getting rid of that crap).
more souvenirs from places other than this creatively stagnant valley.

moving on is a nice thing. however, i've always thought that physically moving on is a better thing. whether that be throwing stuff away or packing my things for walls of a different color, it's liberating.

i'm blessed to have been to the places i've been. to have met the people i have met. to have seen the skylines i've seen. but i could not have experienced them without leaving the former things behind. if it takes sacrificing the temporal for the infinite, so be it.

this christmas, i'm a vagabond.
i live for this.