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Moving

May 9, 2011

My once comfy bed is now a dorm mattress with a Marmot Trestle and a pillow stuffed inside a t-shirt. Thank goodness Bunny’s still here to make it feel cozy. There are trash bags filled with things all over my room, and I’ve realized some things over the past few days of sorting.

1) With each item I put away, a memory goes into a plastic bin. I found myself wishing I had an occasion for my cream colored skirt with the black bow between now and January, because my mother bought it for me for my birthday and it was such a fun shopping trip. Most of my possessions were acquired with some emotion attached to the purchase–delight, joy, wonder–and a big part of buying things is the way they make one feel each time they get used. They are just things, but I like each one of them a different way. Nine months is a long time to live without half of one’s belongings.

2) I spent such a long time making this space my own. I started during the summer, perusing thrift stores for gold-tone frames and vintage ice buckets and glass vases. I love the feeling of coming home to comfort, and my space this year made me feel happy every time I looked at the decorated walls or my beloved couch. I organized my books and clothes by color and it delighted me to be here. Now, packing it all up and giving most of the decorations back to the thrift store where I got them, the idea that home is people and not things sinks in even more. Taking down each part of this space, stripping it for someone else to decorate next year, makes me think of all the places I’ve yet to call home, if just for a little while. I’m excited.

3) I have too much stuff.

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