what to keep and what to let someone else keep
So, how does one prepare to “leave it all behind?” Well, I guess you start by sorting, selling and donating as much as possible, then pack what you can carry in a large U-Haul and leave. But it’s not that simple, now is it? Sorting is the hardest part for me. Should I keep those ten boxes of receipts going back to 2004? Or the closet full of quilting fabric, or the twenty-five bonsai pots with the dead plants in them? What about those faded classic paperbacks I read when I was an English major? They’ve got my notes in them, so they may come in handy one day if I ever teach English…
Of course I’ll keep the books. But I have to admit, I think I am a book hoarder. When we came out here we had about one bookshelf’s worth of books. Now we have enough to fill a small library, and I don’t mean a small room in a house library; I mean a real library. There are books on history, philosophy, mythology, psychology, yoga, meditation, health and nutrition, and cookbooks and gardening books and art books, and that doesn’t even count the magazines. But my plan all along has been to have plenty of books to read when I am too old to work. I think I will have enough. I just hope my eyesight lasts.
Other than books and a few other small, less heavy things, like beads and yarn and fabric, I am not much of a collector. In fact, I am very good at helping other people get rid of their stuff. I clean the refrigerator at least once a week and have been known to throw away food just because it has been in the pantry for more than a year. If I see a current expiration date, the item goes into the trash, no questions asked. For a while I kept bill receipts and store and gas receipts, neatly organized in boxes and file folders in a file cabinet upstairs. But not now. I’m done with keeping piles of paper, especially when they remind me how much money I spend. Those receipts are already in the fire pit outside in the back yard–methphorically, that is. And we will have one heck of a bonfire out there sometime before we leave here! I’ll take pictures.
Blogging through the transition
In this blog I will record my experiences traveling from the west coast to the east coast of the U.S. I have taken this trip before so it is not unfamiliar. This time though it is life changing. Twenty one years ago my husband and I came to CA with my two daughters, Jennifer and Rebecca, and our daughter, Michelle still in-utero, in a faded burgundy van packed with our most precious belongings. That is another story which I may tell in pieces, since this blog covers the end of that story I guess.
So, here are my rules for this blog. Once we are on the road, in each entry I will try to describe what I see, hear, feel, taste and smell. Mostly what I see though. I will say where we are and where we are going. I will try to add photos to the story that enhance the experience for you, the reader. I will likely descend into the philosophical realm now and then, but won’t stay there long, I hope.
Before we leave I may record some of my thoughts on the process of sorting through twenty-plus years of stuff, deciding what to keep and what to sell or give away, and how good it feels to let things go…well, at least most of it. That is where I am right now as I begin this blog: confronted with piles of paper, boxes of books, clothes, art supplies, household items, a garage full of tools and Christmas decorations and my children’s kindergarten drawings, and did I mention books? Just how many books can two people read anyway? “Well, you never know,” my grandmother would say, “You might need them one day.” So I will take her advice on the things that are most precious to me and hang on to them, at least for a while.
Why would anyone want to read something like this? Well, I don’t know. I’m mostly doing it for myself and my family and friends so I can keep up with them and they can keep up with me. It feels a bit narcissistic to assume that anyone would want to follow me on my little life altering adventure, but for some reason, it feels necessary. I am practicing writing for something bigger, I think. Maybe the bones of my memoir, maybe the behemoth of yet another book to add to my shelves. I don’t know, really. It just feels right and I have learned to listen to that little voice whispering in my ear. It’s usually right. “Keep a record,” it says. “You may need it one day…” Wait a minute, is that my grandmother’s voice?
on the road to simplicity 