In the living room, four lone boxes sit beside the futon couch, four out of what felt like at least a hundred. A growing pile of give/sell is near the front door. Otherwise the house is empty.
So I sit before these unsorted few, full of bits that kept being put aside for later (later is now), and I make one small decision at a time. I check receipt dates, toss old gooey glow sticks, and make a stack to go with outdated files.
Then I get up, come to our green-tiled kitchen table – that will soon belong to another family – and I record a moment of closure.
By 5pm, I expect we’ll be down to three boxes.
I have never done a walking meditation, but I imagine it must feel very much like today.