Moving: Cathartic or Masochistic?

MOVING!
Over the last two weeks Kim and I have worked hard to prepare: we are moving.

The date is nearly upon us, literally nipping at our heals as I type. The evidence is everywhere, boxes, bins, piles of papers tossed here and there. My office looks like a team of summer interns hit it.



Survey Fail: My Fault
The moving company did their inspection of our household goods today and the prognosis was an estimated 10300lbs.

That's close to our limit of 9K lbs and it is an estimate, however, I am the problem.
What's more, the man doing the inspection was very clear.

"You were doing well until we got to the book room [my study]," he said with a chuckle.
I grimaced.
"Really?" I asked, fishing in a rhetoric manner for some salvific data piece, one which didn't involve cutting off more books.
"Yeah," he continued with a shake of his head, "Books are heavy and you've got a lot. A Lot," he stressed.

Thanks Captain obvious.
Yes...I know, 'A lot' is an apt description.
That exchange left me wrestling with guilt over my contribution toward our too-high weight amount.




My own Gauntlet: Books
So far I've given away or disposed of more than 200 books. Maybe reached the 300 or 400 mark. However, when that is less than 50% of your original total, I guess that's just not enough.

It's come to the point where I don't know what to keep and what to eliminate. Do I drop all the fiction, which I love? I'm a writer. I crave creative works. My brain needs the 5 basic food groups: Fiction, Theology, Accurate History, Good Science, and Laughable Comedy. I've gotten rid of the fluff, even if it was nice. Now I start making choices between quality Christian works and classic literature.

Our friend Elizabeth came over to help us today. She was great, succeeding in making the chaos orderly. I wonder if the survey took place tomorrow if we'd have a smaller number. As she stood in our study looking for the first time at how many books I actually had she mentioned her concern.

"Why so many," she wondered. "What does that mean?"

Certainly I have many more than is average. But what does that mean?

Am I just a collector?

I do enjoy having them around; they are my decor. While I used to spend money on buying new books regularly, I've stopped that for the most part.

However, I am also concerned because when faced with the requirement to rid myself of "enough" [whatever that is] any attempt to do so feels like I am cutting off my leg.

Why do I find myself standing on books, i.e. how is it that the task of cutting back is so hard that I need them to feel whole?

That is messed up.

When did my books become some kind of idol for me? Are they an adult's security blanket?
Is it part escapism, or the need to guarantee I can provide that enjoyment for myself when 'needed?'


Or is there more...
There's a control factor there for me. I want to have the knowledge I need at my fingertips.

Kim keeps saying "google" when I hold up a book and attempt to sell its worth. Google rocks but it's not a book.

Even if my collection wasn't showing signs of being personally problematic, could it become one?

Elizabeth also asked that question. Having so many right now would likely rob me of the enjoyment of getting new books. As seminary requires the getting of new books quite regularly, that's likely to be a problem.

I am convicted that I have to purge more books even if it hurts like hell. The very thought leaves me low, my stomach leaden, my heart hollowed out.

Yeah, sounds like I have a problem.

I really hate that giving away my material possession stresses me out.

For whatever reason, physical things have significant memory associations for me. Consequently, getting rid of them feels akin to throwing away my life--as if a chip of my past just got tossed in the dustbin.

However, an odd twist goes with it: if I give 'it' to a friend, the purging hurts less. A lot. For example, I'm giving away my 8-stage reloader to a friend tomorrow. I'm sad to loose a prized possession, but [shrug] he can use it and that's great. I'll probably be happy about it by tomorrow.


Weird, eh?


So....if you want free stuff, come knocking--I'm moving.