Packed in a Box

Well I really wish I could say that my life neatly fits into two 8x8x10ft boxes however it does not. I have moved a lot in my twenty seven years more than I care to count actually and none of my moves were as complicated as this. You would think that reducing your life into a storage container would be a simple process and that it’s be easy to relieve yourself of the encumbrances of ‘stuff’.

I held a ‘free sale’ in my house the second last weekend of the month in which I put everything that I no longer wanted in a room and gave it away. I got a lot of traffic. Maybe would have more if I had moved things outside but I wasn’t really interested. I got a lot of ‘why for free?’ questions to which I responded ‘why not?’ and entered into the question of culture again in which a guy can’t give away his van that runs but posts it in the paper for $600 and it is gone the next day.

Why do we place more value on things that have monetary value placed upon them?

Back to the packing. A friend helped me move my wardrobe outside into the yard after I had repacked my storage boxes about 3 times. Each time getting just a few more inches. I have measured the slot into which my wardrobe will fit and it is perfect. Things are going well….until we get the wardrobe into the box and realize that the bookshelf which so nicely slide into that space is taking up the half inch of wiggle room we need to get the wardrobe into the box. No I am not kidding. And I unpacked and repacked the box for a 4th time.

And as the house slowly emptied and I realized which of my things meant the most to me I pondered how practical it was to store a kids foam mattress. Panic set in as I realized that my vinyl vintage chairs, both picked out of the garbage, were not going to be coming with me. Confusion, as I contemplated whether or not I should give away my collection of hoses and sprinklers. Doubt, as I decided to tie shut 10 years of hallowe’en decorations.

My life does not fit neatly into an 8x8x10ft box. Not into two boxes and probably not even into three. The collection of stepping stones made by my daughter and random rocks I’ve packed out of the woods now reside in a good friend’s garden. The hallowe’en decorations are stored at a friends farm awaiting the next party. My tack shed has gained a vaccuum and a vintage chair. My bed and my daughter’s bed are in that same friend’s spare room seems she needed an extra bed anyways.

The two storage boxes are neatly packed with the camping and backpacking gear at the front of one and my wardrobe at the front of the other. The women’s shelter was excited about the box that I brought them. My load is considerably lighter and a friend recently said that I looked lighter. In the metaphysical sense of course. And while that very well may be I am still wondering where exactly it is that this years potatoes are going to take root…