Moving Pains

I am well aware of the well known adage that moving comes only after death and divorce as a stress creator for most people. I also have plenty of experience of moving – counting something like 25 moves in my lifetime without including temporary ones or student moves. But this week I moved house, and as usual I was not prepared for its trauma.

There are many factors in this move that have made it relatively easy. We moved less than a mile down the road. We have a two-week period with access to both the old and the new places. I have no real work to distract me. We have a son who has become both willing and able to help. We generally feel optimistic about the move.

There have been a few factors to make it a bit more difficult. We are reducing space – by choice, because the kids will be leaving for college next month. The same factor creates a bit of a fear of the upcoming empty nest, with the move making this seem imminent. We have some challenges with pets. It is mid summer with New York heat to handle. My wife is especially busy at her work.

These are challenges indeed, but so minor compared with those facing many people when they move. Our move is largely devoid of any shame or dread. We do not wake in fear of a medical report, or a school counsellor’s call or bad news from a boss or a creditor. There has not been any serious risk of temporary homelessness or of scary bridging loans. When the inevitable costs arrive, we can cope. We have not let ourselves or anyone else down.

Even so, the whole experience has been rather horrible. As usual. And I have been surprised just how horrible. Once again, as usual.

The whole process starts of mildly enough. As a family, we talk about whether to move at all and what we are looking for. It is a process with compromise and discovery and bonding. Then the first stages with agents are also pleasant, with the excitement of viewings and of rebalancing expectations and budgets with reality.

But then things head quickly downhill. Agents prove unreliable, and we end up giving up time without achieving a viewing, then seeing places that are hopelessly unsuitable or unavailable or with some hidden nasty surprise. Renting in New York, this all happens in a hurry, because time is money and demand exceeds supply and landlords value occupancy above everything. As a result there is a period of about ten days that starts with giving notice to the current landlord, involves frantic viewings and discussions and decisions and negotiations, and finishes with the signing of a new lease. There is some thrill to all this, but also fear and a sense of being mistreated and conspired against and partially informed. Still, the family relationship can withstand this bit, because of the adrenaline of the thrill of the chase.

There is a growing market of no fee leases and trying to cut out the agent, which makes a lot of sense given the fees they take for so little work and given information power of the internet and standardisation of contracts. Still, you need courage and patience to make this work, and I am pleased that we stuck with the traditional approach this time.

The lease is signed, huge cash is handed over, and our problems are just beginning. We actually have to execute the move! Our movers were not too bad, but they have a lot of power and are ready to use it. What am I supposed to do if they say an item wasn’t on the list, or another isn’t packed well enough or if there isn’t time to dismantle something or if they can’t wait to leave all the boxes in random rooms and get away? It is one of those situations where we just have to be clear and friendly, and hope for their goodwill.

Then, like all projects, the last 5% is the hardest. We have to hack away at the pile of boxes in the new place, while clearing away the remnants of the old. There are specific causes of stress in all of this.

The first challenge is different priorities in the family. I am keen to empty boxes and create a liveable space, even if we end up moving things around again later. My wife wants to take her time and get it right. I have little sentimentality about holding onto things we probably won’t use again until the next move and the one after that, but my wife finds it hard to throw anything away, and to be fair often finds surprising uses for things later on. We try to stay civil, but we are under pressure, with deadlines and penalties, so we argue more than usual.

The second challenge is sheer physical exhaustion. I admire people who do moves for a living, their strength and stamina and smarts are amazing, but of course they have tools and techniques. When I have to move anything, I finish aching, bruised and deflated. The cumulative effect over a week or more of this is pain and stiffness everywhere. This doesn’t help sleep, and I wake after too short a sleep barely able to move.

Put these challenges together, and it is clear why people say all those things about moving. We are at our worst, and struggle to see an end to it. The good news is that I’ve started to sleep properly again now and this morning I could get out of bed in fewer manoeuvres than it took yesterday.

So what can we learn from all of this? Many things. We always reveal facets or ourselves when we are stressed.

First, don’t move too often, and try not to have to be reminded every time how horrible it is.

Linked to this, have a moving mentality all the time. Before buying anything, think about where it will be stored, not just in this house but the one after that. Have a ritual that buying something new requires disposing of something old. And spring clean parts of the house every few months, so that all the decisions about selling or giving or chucking don’t have to happen all at once under pressure.

Next, note where your oases are. These are things that you reach for to comfort you when you are stressed and that can relieve you. A long sit in the steam room did me no end of good yesterday. Reading over a good cup of coffee. The reassuring rituals of a mass.

Linked to this, find ways to celebrate things in your new place. The toilets flush reliably, the hot water comes on immediately and the shower pressure is great. The morning sun is a delight. Shorter walks to the subway and shops are wonderful. Then remember to count these blessings even when the stress has passed.

Most important, note how you are feeling and behaving, and recognise that others may feel like this all the time. I try to do the same when I am sick. So now I can recall my aches when I visit the old folks and see their pain and frustration. I can give a bit more of a pass to someone who might be rude to me or drive recklessly; perhaps they are going through a move.

And I can judge others a bit less. I am reading a book called “Evicted” by Matthew Desmond. It is a depressing read, about families living on the margins of society living in fear of being moved from home to home. These people have all the stress I am feeling now, all the time, with dollops of dread and shame added. I can imagine that migrants and refugees have similar challenges. Society should be able to do better. And a good dose of moving medicine can help to remind me of that.