Ever since I started to read, I fell in love with books. They are like friends and I love to keep them around, as a part of me. Every time we move, hubbie complaints about the number of boxes and the weight that he ends up carrying.
This time around I gave in and suggested that it would be a good idea to get rid of some of the books. Especially those that I used while at university and that I won´t be using again. I went online and sold some of them on Amazon, donated others to charity shops but unfortunately I had to take quite a few to the recycling centre 😦 I had lots of books from when I studied Portuguese literature and even though they might have been useful for someone else the cost of shipping them to Portugal to be donated made it unfeasible.
Parting with books, even ones of subjects I didn´t like, and books that I know realistically I will not open again, was extremely hard. I felt sad, empty and as though I was committing some sort of sacrilege. I know this is absolutely silly however I just feel that those books were part of an important time in my life and they somehow became part of the person I am today.
I am still taking lots of books with me, books that I cannot part from, books that remind me of all that I have lived! I love to have them in shelves in my living room, and look at them whenever I sit down on the sofa to relax; in my bedside table a pile will keep me company throughout the night, and in the study there will always be something to browse through while I wait for an internet page to load or for the printer to print.
I might live a “lighter” life if I didn´t take my books everywhere I go, but I most certainly would not live such a fulfilling one 😉
Every time I start packing for a move I swear I will not do it again anytime soon. Obviously, this is an empty promise as this will be the fifth move in 6 years! And the third international one (first inter-continental though!)!
Whenever you need to pack your life into small cardboard boxes there is always a feeling of desperation. Why, oh why, do we keep so much stuff? I am not one to bother about expensive items but I do get attached emotionally to some material things. The bookmark that I bought in that funky bookshop, the chest that took me ages to fit in my old car and bring home, the little dish where I keep my nespresso capsules that was given to me by my auntie, and, most of all, my books…..
With a move of this magnitude we have to be conscious of volume, weight and space and therefore there is a lot of stuff that will have to be left behind. It is quite liberating to get rid of the old because this is a way to make room for the new in one’s life. But at the same time it is also tricky for me to be getting rid of some of the things that I have lived with for so long.
We have arranged for the shipping of some our stuff and I am feeling anxious. I need to start packing and that means that I need to commence with the reducing and recycling. We are selling our furniture and so far we have actually ensured that our favourites pieces are going to our friends’ new house, which is really nice. I am also planning to give away some stuff to charity and to friends as well.
All this requires lots of organising and sorting out and I confess that my mind races at night with thoughts about the littlest of things. Because Australia is so strict on what you can actually bring to the country we have to take note of exactly everything that we pack and need to be aware of any harmless though prohibited items, such as wicker.
I can’t believe it than in a bit over a month my life will be again dispersed in several boxes travelling steadily along the Indian Ocean 😀