Peace Has Got to Be in One of These Boxes...

I moved into a new apartment on the 30th of December. Somehow I made it through packing, cleaning and several round-trips up and down stairs thanks to a three-week break and friends and family. 'Twas worth fulfilling my poetic idea of having a new place for the new year.

Now I've hit that tiring stage of unpacking where I realize one very important thing: I have too much stuff. I haven't tallied up the rat-packing damage but confessing I have 52 pairs of shoes alarms me. Something seems so wrong about having so much. I feel like a hoarder and restless. While this realization may put a slight damper on my shiny new ideal from the first paragraph, it also means it's a perfect time to de-clutter. The year still has that brand-new smell, no? 

The more I process, the more a nagging feeling tells me this also applies to people. (Oh, over-thinking mind of mine, when will you rest?) Not in an angry "GO TO HELL, I DON'T NEED YOU!" way, but in a bittersweet awareness that we've simply fulfilled our roles for each other and it's time to move on. Maybe I'm the one in someone's storage or "Give Away" box.

I'll keep rummaging through and purging boxes to try to settle my place and soul. I create attachments easily so this will be challenging. Knowing myself some things will be stored for a possible second chance, others released into the wide world of donations. Perhaps that'll happen with some people too. Whichever I'm letting go of, or if I'm the one being let go, I will remind myself that it will all be OK.