Moving is hard. By moving, I don’t mean simply the state of being in motion, but moving someone and their stuff from one residence to another. I say this, because I just helped my Grandma move this weekend.
However, the fact that most of us find moving hard is cultural, as nomadic cultures are defined by their constant moving. They don’t settle in one place. If I were a nomad, maybe I’d be writing a blog about how NOT moving is hard.
Maybe it’d go something like this:
So, we just stopped moving for 3 years. It was the most difficult time of my life. All that sleeping in the same locale, week after week. I had to move my bedroll around the tent every few nights just to keep from going crazy! And man, the scenery: it never changed! After a while, I got to know where everything was, and I was never lost. It was just awful. But at least we stopped that nonsense last weekend. Picked everything up, and just moved from place to place.