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A Move


After the marriage, a move happened. I used to think I lived simply, had very few belongings and could leave everything behind when it was time to move. In reality that is not quite how it worked out. The detritus of a decade clung to me a gooey mass of memories. The pack and move was the easier part - a couple of meltdowns notwithstanding. 
It is only when I started to unpack my belongings in the new closet that I was hit by the dead-weight of the old. In an ideal world, I would throw away everything from the past in lieu of being able to undo the past itself. But doing that is like peeling an onion - the past is laid layer upon layer and if I discarded enough of it, there would be nothing left of me or my life. I experienced an enormous sense of emptiness. Shorn of the baggage, memories and experiences there was no substance to me. I would float away like an soap bubble and the dissolve into nothingness. 
DB has yet to unpack his belongings but I doubt he will experience anything like what I did. He is simply cut of a different cloth. Unlike me, he lives in the moment and looks ahead. No matter what happened in his past, he never allows it to drag him down. On a bad day, DB will be down for a few hours and bounce right back. He is not the kind of person who will remember in painful detail when he last wore a particular article of clothing, the events of that day and allow those memories to intrude into the here and now. That is one of the things I love about him. 
He would be able to relate a lot better to the feeling of oneness that I experienced with him when I blended the spices from our kitchens together. As I did that , there was a sense of things of disparate provenance coming together very harmoniously. Unlike the closet, where the past engulfs and envelopes me, the kitchen is where it blends effortlessly into the present. I wonder why that is.

Comments

Priyamvada_K said…
HC,
I'm going through a move and transition too. Its not easy, isn't it?

In my case, I'm forward-looking on some things, very nostalgic about some other things. Toughest thing for me to do was vacate my house and my neighborhood. That was hard.

I'm ok giving away possessions - if not useful, I will happily donate. If sentimental but not useful, will take a picture for the sentiment and donate the item itself. What's the point in holding onto clothes that don't fit anymore, for example?

Priya.
Heartcrossings said…
Priya - I had no idea how hard the transition would be. DB has been single for years and does not have kids. His place was not truly a "home". Mine was - J and I were family and we have been living there for most of her childhood. There is a lot of "stuff" we've collected along the way.

It was hardest for me to decide what has sentimental value and what does not... specially when it involved J in some way. There is a fine line I found between being a pack rat and being completely without emotion or sentiment
davinleo said…
'In an ideal world, I would throw away everything from the past in lieu of being able to undo the past itself. But doing that is like peeling an onion - the past is laid layer upon layer and if I discarded enough of it, there would be nothing left of me or my life.'
I so love these lines!!

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