There is an art to moving. If there were a degree for moving, I'd have a doctorate. In the past forty years I have moved about thirty times, usually by myself, since I have lived alone for most of that time.
My house is now packed neatly into one large room here on the first floor. Fifteen medium boxes of moderate weight/density. Twelve plastic crates, smaller with more compact weight of wrapped dishes, glassware or books. Boxes are stacked for easy access, since they usually go into the truck first. Larger furniture is next. Small items are last. They are tucked securely into holes left by larger items.
More often than not, I hire movers. I have great admiration and empathy for the men and women who lug the weight of the materialism of others for relatively low pay. They represent a vanishing segment of the population of developed countries: Those who labor against gravity and friction for their living. They provide a truly valuable service.
I have known people who enjoy brutalizing paid laborers. These selfish bullies feel that they are entitled to insult the dignity of a person who has to work hard for their money. What could be more cowardly? There may come a day when those who labor at basic services, like moving, will be considered worthy of more respect. I hope that day comes soon.
All in all, while I struggle with my muscles and joints, exerting myself against the weight of my own possessions, I find moving tremendously invigorating. My heart races at the prospect of new habits, new walks, new acquaintances. Many people seek this exhilaration in travel. I learned many years ago that travel does not satisfy my need for shaking out the cobwebs as well as moving to a new neighborhood, where I will live for a year or more.
In The Dhammapada, the translated sayings of Gautama, there are repeated references to moving or movement as a method to diminish attachment and to spread the word of liberation. I must concur. My moving is motivated as much by economics as by philosophy, but the net effect is the same. Weeding out, packing up and lifting your life, box by box, requires having your feet firmly planted on the ground. Breathing deeply with the mind wide open helps a lot.
