Someone planning to move is aware of living among things.
Someone packing to move is aware how the things we own take up time – initially acquiring them, deciding a place for them in our home, keeping them clean, securing them for transit to a new home.
Things outrage some part of each of us.
The moment of their first delight, the magic of their discovery, the solace of our possession of them can pall with their persistent claim on our space and time.
Things insist on being taken into consideration.
With luck we grow to love some of them. Their claim on us is a welcome one. We balk at the prospect of perhaps one day losing them – because by losing them, we might be helpless to recover what they had managed to define about us.
Someone packing to move can forget the inevitable in-between time when boxes will stand, block, hide one another, baffle our attempts to recall exactly what was in each of them.
Someone planning to move can consider whether there is an opportunity awaiting in which finally to discard things. True, even discarding things, ridding ourselves of them takes time and can claim a last bit of space from us.
How long will it take someone to be able to stand in a new home, look around, and find that the attention and effort it took to move things has been forgotten?