thoughts that currently keep me up too late

The apartment is in disarray, as the husband's and my belongings migrate into boxes. The furniture that once contained them are being slowly auctioned off to friends, neighbors, or for storage consideration. I have a faint flashback to the days leading up to my leaving the U.S. after college graduation, when I ended my health insurance coverage and prepared myself for the possibility of never coming back to this country again. Because of a long-time boyfriend who had been open to the idea of going abroad (but eventually wanted to stay in the States), I returned just as I was finally making a life of my own. I wonder how things will play out this time.

So I went to bed too late, even by half an hour. And my son has taken to pooping at six a.m. these past few days, which means I must get up then. I need to do better about this.

I also need to practice at having a more grateful heart, instead of envying another friend who recently moved to Lancaster, PA and its bounty of CSAs and ethically-grown local produce and animals. Wistfully remembering Temple U.'s job offer to the husband for six times the salary he plans to receive in China. I just finished reading Sandra Steingraber's Raising Elijah: Protecting Our Children in an Age of Environmental Crisis, you see. This science writer's Having Faith: An Ecologist's Journey to Motherhood about her pregnancy with her daughter had been a real support and guide during my own pregnancy with my son. It was what clinched the case for me to have a completely natural birth, to avoid exposure to pollution and chemicals as much as possible. that avoidance was worth the trouble. Now, her most recent book opens my eyes to the poorly-regulated chemical practices all around us and how they impact our children--the demographic most vulnerable to toxins of every kind. But I am moving soon to the country that is currently No.1 in the amount of CO2 being dumped into the atmosphere. Just an example of how the land is being misused.

The fact that we're moving specifically to a city known for its environmental beauty doesn't abate my concerns much. It's the best case scenario, certainly, but any beginner in studying ecology and natural resources can tell you that the natural world is interconnected. Pollutants know no boundaries. What are we to do?

I will keep packing for now, and get good rest when I can. (I feel tired all the time...anemia again?) Another friend recently gifted me with a book by Ann Voskamp called One Thousand Gifts in which Voskamp seems to suffer bouts of depression as I do and practices eucharisteo (thanksgiving) by making a list of a thousand things in everyday life that she considers gift from God. Perhaps I will do the same.

the gathering flurry of an exit to be made

The plan is, tomorrow morning, we clear out a big chunk of our apartment fixture. The coffee table, the bookshelves, the glider and ottoman. Going to three family friends. Our air conditioner is already gone. That leaves the big couch and single bed and various books and kitchenwares to give away. At first I thought about selling these things, but my husband and I both decided that it is far better to gift them to friends who need these items anyway. This will help us to remember old friends even better, since each item creates a memory of our relationship rather than just cold hard cash.

I'm looking forward to more and more space in the apartment. Good for my son to practice crawling about. During his nap-time today, I finally picked up the Lonely Planet tour book that my husband bought regarding China, and read up on Zhejiang and Hangzhou specifically. It strikes me that I'm returning to the province my grandparents had evacuated from during the civil war. I will be seeing, for the first time, my supposed homeland that I've never been. I looked for, and found, the town that my great (to the nth)-grandparents came from, and enjoyed a moment of amusement at the serendipity of one of their descendants returning to the province, except to its capital.

It made me a little more excited about leaving what is comfortable and seemingly safer.