I like moving. It gives you the opportunity to go through everything, to re-evaluate what is important and what isn’t. We closed up shop at the other place last weekend and we are now completely moved into the townhouse. Living as we did with nothing in the house for weeks has given me a new eye for all the STUFF that is now in our house.
For the most part the move was painless. I packed intelligently and most items went from place of use to box to place of use. However, there are some ten boxes left to go through, and I’ve been putting them off because they are all boxes of crap that were just thrown together last minute. A few of them are even boxes from our previous move that never got unpacked for the same reason, and I know of one that never got unpacked when my husband and I first moved in together four years ago. They don’t really have crap in them, they simply need to be sorted between what’s useful and should be put away, and what is no longer useful and should be given away or sold.
I’m being much more ruthless about this last category. I don’t want to fall into the trap of expanding to fit the space. I like the feeling of openness that this place has, the airy sense of light that can be very rare in the darkest of winters.
My final push for the boxes will come over this next week, and once everything has a place, then I will start going through it all again to cull out what is no longer loved, what is no longer useful. And I will do it again after that, and again, ever onward, in small doses that keep me mindful of what I own, keeping me from constant curation of my possessions.