Moving… Again

7 30am. A man I had never seen before opened my door and, having realized it wasn't the bathroom, politely apologized for the intrusion. I was far from awake, still lost in my dreams, probably breaking a string during my solo with Led Zeppelin or drumming for Pink Floyd in one of their majestic gigs. Or maybe I was having a dream in my dream, something that happens quite frequently. Wherever I was, I can't really remember what I told him, but I was slightly confused as to why he was there. 

Ah…of course! How could I forget! Today's the day…I'm moving out!
My family has been talking about moving to a bigger, nicer house for almost as long as I've been here. I liked my tiny room with a little window but have to admit that the new house is very nice. Mostly because it's a 10-minute walk from work and the only thing I can see from my window is a quiet mountain where trees rest and animals live. The breeze gently shakes the green giants and the leaves play a melody only nature can compose.
I've gotten used to moving. I moved six times in three years, and these have taught me many useful things: how to fit 60kg of clothes in a 45kg bag, how to assemble a bed without instructions (it wobbles when I sit on it…), how to position everything in a truck in such a way that one trip is enough, etc. All of these things are very helpful, for every time I move I finish cleaning and organizing my room more quickly—or so it seems. 
It's quite funny…I've lived in three continents and moved at least once in each. I feel like things keep happening and I keep having to move, sometimes out of pleasure, sometimes out of necessity, and sometimes, like this one, my opinion is totally irrelevant and I just "go with the flow, wherever it goes". 
Moving so frequently has also taught me something much more useful, in my opinion, than knowing how to pack my things. It has taught me to adapt to new environments very quickly, and thanks to that, I feel at home everywhere.
Who would have taught that I would move even during my bridge-year in Brazil! Yet here I am in a new house, with new neighbors, a new neighborhood, a different room, a different bed, a different view.
The things we don't expect are usually the ones that teach us the most. Maybe because they catch us by surprise or because they're often positive, and their lessons easily unforgettable. 
As I sit back to take a break from moving dozens of boxes full of stuff, I welcome this new chapter with open arms and remind myself that maybe, just maybe, our lives will take care of themselves, if we let them.
Stay blessed!