As excited as I am to be making bold strides toward living a life closer to the one I want to live, where I can go fully experience new things without being weighed down with past experiences via the clutter that hoards my memories and mindset, concerns over my property, or even just having to deal with packing or moving, there’s still so much left to do, even after I arrive at my next residence.
The clutter is just a physical manifestation of my mental state.
The piles of things I have are like 3D renders of objects with texture shadings laid atop them, abstract configurations that feel more comfortable to me than straight lines, empty surfaces, and clean workspaces. My natural inclination is to focus only on the most exciting thing at all times, so when my distraction pulls me away from other things, I might not often return for a time, and those half-completed projects will become buried under clutter.
So this move isn’t merely a matter of boxing and unboxing.
The new place should be a new mindset. When I go to the library or anywhere else to work, I don’t clutter up their space, and whenever I leave, I always do my final pass before I leave with all my stuff. Anything left will probably be stolen. It’s not so much that I want to adopt a paranoid mindset akin to feeling like anything left out will be stolen, but I want to use the next space as a way to put behind all of the baggage I experienced through my insobriety, becoming clean and mostly serene, and now just experiencing life unfiltered.
Maybe I volunteer for too many things?
Maybe I let the whims of my fancies get the better of me? Maybe the focus isn’t going to be cured through some reduction of property and boxing up of things? I actually think that’s closer to true, however, because the projects I’m closing out or things I’m recycling or donating are mini-chapters in my life that I’m putting behind me. Nothing [and no one] in this life is truly sacred, so most any object can be reasonably recreated. Photos, one-of-a-kind objects, or certain things may not, but there’s way too much stuff that we own at a level of attachment exceeding depravity that we can gain from losing.
It’s like how we can learn from being sick.
We aren’t perfect machines. I wasted most of today just feeling exhausted. I did some moving, but I made no significant progress, and today might be the day I break my reading daily chain, for it was almost the day I broke my writing daily chain – the first day since May I hadn’t written at least 500 words. These words aren’t great, but they capture that sort of mindset: I’m tired of the burden of extreme clutter. I will soon rest up, wake up early tomorrow, and address this mess twofold.
Keep only what’s most valuable.
Discard the rest.
|Sources: My moving experiences.|
|Inspirations: Feeling sick and needing to write 500 words. I really need to start purging more stuff. By the time this publishes, I should have already purged a significant amount of stuff and packed basically everything I value.|
|Related: Other Moving Zeal essays.|
|Picture: Four random colors drawing the central reveal. The person [me] is throwing up, but I didn’t want to be graphic about it.|
|Written On: December 23rd [30 minutes]|
|Last Edited: First draft; final draft.|