Samain Closing Moon
Packing takes a toll in these last days. Not sure why, but each day I spend a good deal of time packing really wears me out. Not physically, but emotionally. It’s not resistance to the move itself, as I’ve said here before, rather I think it feels as if the packing has gone on too long.
Let me see if I can sort this out. I’ve been packing, with many generous breaks, since May. The bulk of the summer I packed books and sorted files, then packed them. I made an effort to get all the art and objet d’art packed before Labor Day, along with all the books in my study except those I use regularly. That was successful.
We’ve decluttered, thrown away, donated a lot of stuff. Some has gone to recycling. Then there was the search for the house, finding it, my seeing it, then the closing.
Living in the move, an idea I developed early on, has helped me see all this as the liminal space between our decision to move and our eventual settling in Colorado. But now living in the move is breaking down as we get close to the actual date. We are now having to live the move itself.
This seems like an understandable, normal response at this point, as I consider it. We’re neither completely finished, nor are we actually moved. So we’ve entered a time when planning and reality are about to collide. A part of me wants to rush through this, get on with it. Why is there this teaware and ceramics to pack? Why are there still these boxes of files to sort? Well, precisely because they are the things I chose to pack last. Oh.
The trick is to just stay in the moment. Let the day’s packing be sufficient there unto.