I’m embarking on a life-changing journey to Country Life, Oregon. Unless the buyer of my home in Suburbia, USA drops a bombshell on the deal, closing on the transaction happens at the end of June. I’ve been ordering dumpsters to lighten my life of possessions, including items that belonged to my parents, and it’s been a process of sorrow and pragmatism. Time constraints compel me to take action with an attitude of indifference, relinquishing sentimentality while realizing I’m jettisoning material objects, not the memories attached to the items. My emotions are holding on to the practicality of the process, encouraging me to move forward in my life, paving a path to healing, rejuvenation, and salvation.

I will donate my mom’s clothes and several of my coats and shirts. I will be ruthless paring down my belongings as starting life anew allows me to pursue a lifestyle of minimalism and leanness. The transition from suburbia to a country community will challenge and engage my ability to thrive without the conveniences the general population accepts without consideration. Forty-five minutes of drive time to refuel the truck and purchase provisions mean planning is required to maintain continuity of household operations, my wellbeing, and conditions for thriving.

I don’t detest suburbia; instead, I loathe the machinations generated by the general population: noise pollution, the tensions placed on society neutering civility, and behaviors undermining fundamental, human decencies. I’ve outgrown what city life has to offer, and it’s time for me to move to a place where I can experience peace and tranquility to enrich my life, where the woods lie beyond my front door, where there’s a sense of community. I look forward awakening to the sounds of forest murmurs, wildlife, and the stillness of time. I feel like I’m returning to a place where I belong—home.