The moving continues

We have now sold our book cradle, our bed frame (without the mattress), our kitchen table, and our huge cushy sofa — all to people we like. Our folding chairs, kitchen shelves, butcher block, and entryway tables are spoken for (also by people we like). All that’s left now is the piano, a heap of disassembled bookshelves, and many boxes and small items we can move without any help.

Wowee! We have very nearly met our made-in-a-moment-of-frustration goal of getting rid of all our furniture before moving. We were driving up to San Pablo in the rain, on that detour we had to take when the 5 was closed, and in thinking of having to move all our big furniture we just kind of threw up our hands and said, “Forget it!” We have loved and enjoyed our furniture, but I really have been trying to practice aparigraha (non-grasping)… they’re just things, and we can keep the happy memories without having to hold on to the things themselves. And as one true measure of freedom is what you can do without, we’ll test the boundaries of that freedom by taking our time in getting new furniture for the house.

The inventive, adventurous side of me is excited by this no-furniture situation, and has persuaded me to consider nomadic décor: blankets and cushions for seating, low tables or stools for tables, everything surrounded by colorful textiles. But I must have my computer and drawing desks — at least until my hips open enough to let me sit comfortably on the floor for lengthy periods! — and we’ll need at least one big table so we can get under it if the ground starts shaking! But in the meantime there is something fun about playing camping in your own house. I think we’ll try it for a while.

While I lived in my dorm room and first couple of apartments, I wasn’t able to collect as much stuff as I wanted. I was always so envious of other people’s stuff and their settled lives; I couldn’t wait until I had more space and money so I could accumulate stuff of my own. After Erik and I got married, furnishing our apartment felt like building a life together. We had so much fun picking out the piano, the sofa, all the things we’d wanted and felt deprived without. But now that we’ve lived here for a while, battled clutter, and tired ourselves out with packing, we’ve seen the disadvantages to having lots of stuff. Unlike in our college days, we now can have lots of stuff, but we’re ready to try voluntarily doing without — starting with as little stuff as possible and building up only if needed. There is something very freeing about moving through this world with few belongings; there’s more breathing, moving, thinking, and dreaming space, not to mention less time spent in cleaning and decluttering and all that.

One thing I have realized while writing these moving/packing journal entries is that I’ve actually already moved a lot of unnecessary stuff into the new house or to my parents’ house, so I think a strict new decluttering session is in order once we’re safely ensconced in San Pablo. In theory it’s a lovely idea to keep only possessions that bring one joy, but so much of our material life seems to require joyless things: toothbrushes, surge protectors, cleaning sponges, Gladware, athletic socks, padded mailers, and so forth. Perhaps some more enlightened decorator than myself has figured out how to live without such things — or hide them artistically within Jonathan Adler pots or whatnot* — but I feel the battle is so hopeless it’s hardly worth waging in the first place. Nevertheless, I’ll try, once we’re moved in, to follow my own rules and purge relentlessly. What do the Bedouins do in their tents, to fill the needs we supply with toothbrushes et al?

*This calls to mind the conversation Alison, Bright and I have been having about Domino etc!