Unpacking

Through all the moves and traveling I have done over the last few years, I’ve become an expert packer. I know how to shop to get the things I need to last until my next trip. And because of flying so much internationally, I can lift a suitcase and tell you if the bag weighs 50lbs; with about a 5lbs margin of error. My packing skills are really quite impressive, if I do say so myself.

But I’m a horrible unpacker. Even now, I arrived in Rwanda over one month ago and there are still suitcases in my floor with supplies that have not been touched or moved since I dropped it there upon arrival. I hate unpacking. It’s something I have to really prepare for. I don’t know why or how, I’m just that way. I will step around boxes or suitcases until finally I feel mentally prepared enough to help the things inside find their homes.

I was having a good one on one conversation with my friend the other day, which I love because I’m an introvert. We were discussing what we look for in friends and the characteristics of our very closest friends. She made a comment and I said, “Let’s unpack that,” quoting my counselor. Then we started down a rabbit hole of why we appreciated certain characteristics, “unpacking” how we came to need those in our lives. Some of it was really, excellent friends who had that characteristic and we wanted to duplicate that feeling, and some characteristics were filling an old hurt.

Unpacking, whether a suitcase or old hurts, isn’t something that comes naturally or easy to me. I would rather push it aside and deal with things when I have the energy. I might unpack my suitcase a little here or there, until I feel like I’ve done enough to not feel like a total slacker.

As I’m sitting here on my bed, looking at 3 partially unpacked suitcases, still laying in the floor, I’m wondering why this is a pattern in my life. I only want to unpack as much to feel like I’ve accomplished something, then zip up the edges, maybe not all the way, but at least some of the way, then spend the next <insert timeframe here> scooting the bags around with my foot so I can get around them without actually addressing what is inside.

How many times in life do I have a hurt, habit, or hang-up that I just push around with my foot, not actually addressing the issues behind it? Sometimes it feels easier to keep stepping over, going around, and ignoring the giant, black suitcase sitting in the middle of the room, than to take the time and unpack what’s inside. Taking each individual piece that was once neatly packed (under 50lbs) in it’s place, holding it, thinking about how it will fit into my future and finding a place to store it until it’s needed.

I’ve learned that hurts have their place. They make us stronger and braver going into the future, but you can’t just leave them in their bag and ignore them. They must be brought to light, unpacked, and put on a shelf as a memory of what made me who I am today.

Obviously, I haven't mastered this idea, but I'm feeling motivated to work on the 3 bags in front of me. It's a process.