on possessions: a break from packing

I'm writing this to take a break from packing because sorting books (give away/store/ship) is making me sick.  I keep thinking it's all fine, that all I need to do is focus on getting things done and making the best of everything and stop thinking about the big picture and by all means stop questioning any of it.  I was fine with giving away the dining room table and the kitchen island.  I completed a heartless culling of the stuffed animals without a second thought.  It was starting in on the books that finally broke me. I was going through my books again for the second time in a year and a half, trying to figure out if a book I haven't read in decades is worth making the effort to store or bring along.  It's tempting to just throw it all away, be in solidarity with refugees of wars, earthquakes, and fires.  That would be fair, right?  It's always bothered me when we've moved to countries where we live with luxuries that are impossible fantasies to the people my husband's organization is trying to help.  This time we're moving to a country that is so much wealthier than the ones where we've lived before and finally I'm trying to get rid of everything.  Is it really a quest for solidarity, or a rejection of the idea of a forever home- am I just giving up? Books represent a sure future with leisure and furniture.  Once again I think about how we should never have come back to the US where the expectation of putting down roots became mine too, in spite of myself.  Now with those expectations thoroughly shattered, twice in a row, I'm ready to rejoin the transient expat tribe.

Keeping the bikes and camping gear in a storage unit seems like simple good sense since no matter what condition we're in when we return to the US, we'll have shelter, a stove, cooking utensils, and minimal transportation.  Our previous postings included a generous shipping allowance.  When we lived in West Africa, a friend who worked for a shipping company told us how often those containers get blown or washed off the boats, so every time since then that full container left our home I would let go of everything and imagine it was gone forever until it arrived miraculously at its destination.  Much as I'd like to let go of my attachment to it all, unpacking the boxes always felt like Christmas.  This time around our residence will be furnished so our shipment will be much smaller than before.  We're getting rid of all the furniture except for a cabinet full of art supplies and the kids' art table and chairs- which we will ship along with us, and which  will probably be grown out and given away of by our next move.

The kids don't know what they don't need yet.  Thank goodness they've spent so much time playing outside lately- they're pretty satisfied with a climbing tree and a muddy hill, and with books or art projects or the occasional movie when they come inside.  This is great as I empty the house, but we're moving to the desert in the middle of summer- muddy hillsides and climbing trees will probably require a flight to another country.  Most of what I'm willing to drag along on this next move is theirs: books, dress-ups, art supplies, clothes to grow into, a few stuffed animals.  Even as I have been feeling like the future is ever more uncertain, I'm determined to create some version of steadiness for the kids.  Am I required to do this by hauling material possessions around the world?  I want to think it's more of a point of view than about the stuff, but I can't see into their heads. I appreciate how long it's taken me to understand that for myself.

And now it's time to stop wallowing and take care of the books and everything else.

only the beginning...