My inner struggle about whether to keep my library intact or to purge it with the rest of my belongings.
Books are a uniquely portable magic. – Stephen King
I’ve gotta figure out what to do about these books. My original plan was to keep and store my DVDs, books, and obviously any personal effects (filled notebooks, photos, etc.). The rationale behind the DVDs and books was simple: these are libraries that it took me years upon years to amass. My books, in particular, bestow upon me a happiness, a feeling of accomplishment.
Any time the books have been packed up for any length of time, I can feel myself perk up at the first sight of them. When I first moved to Denver, it took about 2-3 weeks for my stuff to arrive on the moving truck. When it came, it was everything. My couch, my kitchen supplies, my BED… despite all these useful items, I immediately unboxed all my books and sat there on the floor surrounded by them, grinning.
Even right now, they’ve been boxed up since my realtors staged my apartment. It’s just been a couple of weeks. But, the other day I went into the closet to find something and I opened one of the boxes. Some of my favorite tomes sat there, eyeballing me. I felt an immediate jolt of comfort and elation. I adore them. I KNOW them.
This brings me to today. I brought out all the boxes of books from all the closets in order to sort through them. I knew I wasn’t going to keep them all, some had to be cut.
I was very proud of myself earlier. Turns out, I was willing to cut more than I expected. Books that I’ve held onto for years were placed into the “donate” box (which is now full to the brim). It’s time for them to move on to a new home, to be enjoyed by new eyes and hands. I still have a problem, however.
Books are everywhere, and always the same sense of adventure fills us. Second-hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack. – Virginia Woolf
When I look at the remaining pile of books, the pile designated “to keep,” it occurs to me that it is still pretty large. This becomes especially clear as I start to load them into boxes. First of all, books are way too heavy. I need to spread them out through many boxes to ensure that the box is liftable. Secondly, this means I will have far too many boxes.
I am calling in favors when it comes to the storage of the things I intend to keep. I am asking friends to donate some of their space to my cause and I greatly appreciate their willingness to lend me some. Now, all of a sudden I am going to show up with six or seven boxes? Boxes which I will have to carry to and from cars, mind you. It might be too much.
I am faced with a dilemma. Do I hold onto my books and maintain my library even though, if needed, I can purchase all these books again in the future (you know, when I’m disgustingly wealthy)? Or do I maintain my resolve and attempt to store them?
A room without books is like a body without a soul. – Cicero
If this plan of mine all goes to shit quickly and I need to set up an apartment, I am going to be sad not to have my books. Even if I remain nomadic for a long time, presumably at some point I will seek out a place of my own again. When that happens, I will be sad not to have my books. Isn’t the entire point of this exercise to push my boundaries and get outside my comfort zone? Maybe that means trimming the fat until I can fit all of my belongings into one carload. Maybe that means abandoning the things that make my home feel like home. OR maybe I should grant myself this one little piece of excess, hold on to this one little piece of my past. Jury’s still out.
I never feel lonely if I’ve got a book – they’re like old friends. Even if you’re not reading them over and over again, you know they are there. And they’re part of your history. They sort of tell a story about your journey through life. – Emilia Fox
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