Webster’s definition of moving is to change one’s residence or location. But it also can mean in motion –a fast-moving river or producing a strong emotion –an unforgettable and moving book. Or being mobile –she was moving so quickly I hardly saw her. It’s interesting that the same word used to describe changing your residence also explains having a deeply emotional experience.
Moving has never been easy for me. Making piles of things I don’t need and should donate. Throwing outdated and useless things away like the ceramic bakeware I haven’t used in three decades. Of course, then there are those things that hold some sentimental value that I can’t ever seem to get rid of. Case in point, those boxes taped shut and living in the most remote corners of my home. The ones I’ve carried around for way too long. Untouched.
However, since we are downsizing, I decided to open a box labeled Sharon’s Keepsakes. A box sealed with gobs of tape and covered in strikeouts every time we moved. I couldn’t tell you the last time I opened it.
I spent the rest of the day going down memory lane. Reading cards from my kids when they were young and letters from old friends, laughing at old photos, or crying when I unwrapped my wedding dress. At the bottom of the box was a sealed plastic bag, opaque in color and brittle. In it were three scrapbooks filled with the poetry I wrote as a young girl. I read several. Did I write that? How did I do that?
In high school, my English teacher once tried to convince me to publish. “Your poetry is good you know. We could put together a small book.”
At the time I was horrified. I didn’t want the world to know my secrets.
But now, I think he may have been right. Perhaps it is time to publish my poems.
So, after I’ve settled into our new place and the move is over, I plan on compiling the best poems I’ve written and beginning the publishing process once again. But not before I’ve donated those things I truly do not need, cut back on possessions, and this time, keep only those things that matter.
Remember you can’t reach out in front of you until you’ve let go of what’s behind you. Anonymous
Enjoy the passage of time.
Sharon
© 2023. Sharon Kreider. All Rights Reserved
