We are isolated in the master bedroom, while four strangers rifle through our stuff. These are the good kind of strangers though — movers. Our kids, Story and Leo, are out of the house, thankfully, at the groomers for most of this day, our first of possibly three days of packing and loading. Mark, the lead, says they will pack us up today and load our belongings into their semi-truck and trailer tomorrow. They will then deliver our household goods to their storage facility in Kansas City. We move into temporary housing in KC while we continue to search for a new home in our new city. We have a couple of months of corporate housing provided for us, and for that we are grateful.
The thing with moving, and in particular when others are doing the packing, there comes a time when you have to let things be. There’s no worth in worrying about your belongings. You simply have to let it go, have faith. If past history is any guide, we have moved several times this way, and we’ve never experienced any widespread breakage or loss. I’ve heard stories of others saying they’d lost some of their belongings or things arrived broken or damaged; we have not had that experience.
Again, as they pack, a not so subtle pang of guilt, and embarassment, arises in the throat. How can there be so much stuff George Carlin’s comedic rant on our insatiable need for stuff and more stuff comes to mind.
Over the years we have weaned and weeded our household to the essential (those items that spark joy). And while we’re not minimalists, we have made some inroads reducing our materials. We still have a way to go — but that’s for the next move. 😜