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Recently my errands have provided a retail outlet, a brief reprieve from packing for the pleasure of brightly stacked, neatly organized objects that promise a sense of order and beauty with a small, indulgent purchase. I’m tempted by something tangible, until I remember the boxes and bags of beautiful nothings that have so recently found new homes as we minimize our belongings to ease the work of moving.

There were inexpensive toys, embarrassing bribes and impulsive indulgences; pretty accessories forgotten in the simplicity of our preferences; luxury items stored carefully for a day that never came. These items were once neatly packaged promises of surprised delight, messages of care and celebratory keepsakes; few still carry the enthusiasm or sentiment that informed their arrival in our home.

Yesterday I caught myself seeking out an object that might mark this moment of change and hope, a vessel to contain my excitement and hold a place of permanence. I greeted each object of possibility with a curious uncertainty, testing the colors and space in my mind’s eye as I tried to imagine a familiarity that felt too forced.

Today I’m thinking instead of beloved family pictures and framed letters in my children’s handwriting that will mark a place of new memories with old rememberings. I am pledging to postpone purchases, necessary and frivolous, until I unpack; to begin with what we have and supplement only after I am certain of our space.

I am hoping we, as a family, will spend less time seeking ways to fill our new home and more time shaping our time together with less. To live more mindful of the distinction between collecting moments and storing mementoes.

Tagged: Home, Moving, Musings