Moving can be quite the hassle- hunting for a new place to call home, hauling one's life away to a new avenue or boulevard or street... But is it my life I'm hauling or is it something else? "Things" prove troublesome for me... When I think about the things I exist with & the things that help me exist, I realize there's a great disparity... There are few things I actually "need"... everything else is just filler.
So what exactly am I hauling with me? Do I need a barrister full of books I read years ago or perhaps may never read? Bric-a-brac, media, papers... They accumulate here & there, just waiting for a glance... But what I need to exist day to day isn't found in my barrister, on my desk or in my media corner... All that I actually need, I essentially carry.
Yes, I have everything I need... & more. Food fills the cupboards & fridge.... Furniture lines the walls that are covered with serene visions of nature & maps of antiquity... My closets are filled with boxes left unopened from past moves... And as I set out to pack up the stuff that's since settled around me, I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. How much do I really need to take with me? How much do I really need to feel "at home"? I have grandiose visions of simplicity- of taking only what I need... but even that won't fit through the eye of the needle... Will stuff or lack make a difference? Is it my life I'm hauling or is it something else? And why is it so damned hard to let go if it?