Moving

 If you want to be miserable try moving.  It’s a misery maker.  As a general rule I’m kind of a change junkie – the change itself makes me insane but I find it stimulating and strangely comforting to try new things – but moving is too much change all at once.  Anxiety attack kind of change.  And as far as my new place is concerned, I have been vigorously exercising my previously mentioned ability to uncover the fault in the faultless thing, to discover fault where no fault exists, to boldly go and find fault where no man has ever found fault ever before!  It’s also quite compelling for me to do this.

The guys that moved our possessions were all in The Program.  First of all and most importantly, they were professionals who did a great job.  If they had smashed up our stuff the extra benefits they brought along would have paled.  The thing SuperK and I really appreciated was the optimism and good humor they brought to their work.  They really helped make a stressful situation much less stressful.  I’ve moved many, many times and I can honestly say this was as close to pleasant as it has ever been.  They were complimentary about our new place and this made us feel good, even if they were lying.  Point out the good in the change, not the downside.    And we got to chat about The Program during breaks.  They made suggestions about furniture placement.  They didn’t approach this as an evil task that needed to be completed as soon as possible.  And they pointed out that we needed to get rid of some things because we no longer have the room – I appreciate this honesty, too.  If someone is complimentary all of the time then we call that lip service.  I want to know when I’m messing up.

I called the company owner the next day and tried to explain this.  I know that I have trouble sometimes understanding how to be of service to my fellow man during the routine parts of my life.  I wanted him to know that I really felt like the work he and his men did was in part service work, a spiritual thing.  I shared how great I felt when I got notes from my customers thanking me for my effort when I was making money selling them things.  I wasn’t in the category of Sleazy Salesman trying to make as much money as possible.  I felt like I was a technician trying to help someone solve a problem.  It was a very good feeling.  It made me see how important to my peace of mind and general well-being it is to simply do my best as I live my life.  I used to spend so much time thinking Big Thoughts about service that I didn’t notice how rude I was to the clerk at the Plaid Pantry.

I still had an anxiety attack my first night at home.  I’m getting better, not getting done.