In three parts. I. I’ve been ruminating this past week about what to do with all my stuff. I have a small Uhaul storage unit for my climate controlled items (books, mostly), and my motorcycles and garage stuff is at a friend’s place. It’s tempting to just donate it all, but the problem is … I rather like my books, have a couple of boxes of dad paperwork and photos, my truck rear seats that I took out when I…
We pack these boxes full of stuff for perhaps use on a later day. We fill the lockers with unnecessary items in order to hold onto some tangible evidence of our existence. I am on the tail end of this current adventure – this temporary place I moved for a job and to heal some wounds four years ago. This is the only town in my adult life I didn’t purposely choose to move to. I happened here, and at…
My bed sold on Wednesday, the dresser left yesterday, and today my friend walked out with the tv and armfuls of kitchen supplies and foods that I won’t be able to use in the camper. We talk about ideas of ‘things’ owning us, about how experiences are what matter, but until you are sitting in a small cottage after two years of being embedded looking at blank walls and empty floors, you really don’t understand what that means. Moving is…