[quite possibly the worst blog post title for SEO ever created]

Our household is moving 20 miles east.

That seems easy enough, like an RV pulling up stakes and rolling down the road. However, in our case, it has been excruciating. We have had to accelerate the processes of downsizing and minimalizing and cleaning all into a month.

I had to use all my PTO from work, all my patience, and all my cash on hand. We hauled 100 cubic yards (about 20 tons) of junk/trash. We have a burn pile of about the same size, largely the remains of my precious pirate ship. We cashed in about every favor from everyone, and we have not even gotten to moving day.

Here’s a more thoughtful and eloquent reflection on things:

Stuff clings. Like invasive weeds, it snakes into every crack of my conscience. "Don't let go," it says.

Hi, my name is Mark Jarvis, and I'm addicted to stuff.

In the guise of precious memories, these things I hoard hide behind nostalgia when they're really just dead weight.

My memory does not depend on things. My love for family members does not require I keep their every change of clothes, jewelry, false teeth, crusty old documentation, photos of people no one recognizes.

"Holding people dear" is not the same as holding onto all their detritus and ephemera. You can give it fancy names, but it's junk compared to the actual moments and people.

I'm going to learn to NOT assign value to things. I'm working hard to divest myself of tangibles. Even some thing so light as a digital photo can be let go to the cyber ethers if I try.

Unclenching one's hand is hard work.