Well, our last days at Woodstock have been full of packing what we need and getting rid of what we don't. The very real constraints of space and weight and their costs have made us sharpen our ideas of what is important among the piles of our papers and clothes and other junk which has become such a burden in the light of our impending move. It is refreshing and liberating, and a bit melancholy. I feel like Ma Joad sitting next to her wood stove, taking one last look and pushing into the flames those papers that need to not make the trip. Quite literally, as this process has included some actual pushing letters into the wood stove.
That is something special about traveling, is a more frequent need to let go, to evaluate. Sometimes I just want a big attic or a garage with the potential to hold on to any box of papers I simply do not want to decide about. And other times I enjoy the healthy feeling of being rid.
And the leaving is very anticlimactic as we say goodbyes and then see people a few more times, or don't say goodbye because we didn't realize we wouldn't run into somebody during these last few frantic days. C'est la vie.