I am currently moving, and the entire process — while exhausting — is definitely one of Life’s Mysteries.
The definition of Mystery: an event that only those who have been initiated into it understand fully; it’s generally difficult if not impossible to describe the Mystery, which is why it’s a Mystery.
There are various Mysteries in different religions, but there are secular ones too — the mysteries we go through as members of a society that places importance on those things. Moving, in our North American society, is generally more of a Mystery the first time one goes through it on one’s own — I’m speaking of the “moving out of your parents’ house for the first time” move, not any ones you may have done as a family in your youth. (Those Mysteries are different and have less universal meaning attached.)
I’ve moved several times at this point – I first moved out of the house when I was 18, and have lived on my own more or less steadily since (minus a few moves back to Mom’s place to save money). This current move is another one back to my mother, because now that I am out of school until January at least, I am not on loans until then either — and I cannot afford the rent at my beautiful one-bedroom basement suite.