I really do. I have to pack up everything I own; decide to part with a number of items that have emotional, if not physical value; and change my home, with all the upheaval that brings.
But most of all, I'm paranoid. Paranoid that I'll lose something that wasn't meant to be lost in the packing and sorting process. Paranoid that I won't be able to replace it once it's gone; that I'll be scarred forever by the loss.
It's a little irrational, really. I can always find something to fill all of my needs, even if it lacks the emotional value that the previous item carry. But all things grow old and worn out, and eventually need replacing.
Plus, the development of a comfort zone isn't supposed to be something I'm trying to do. When Jesus comes again, am I really going to be waiting with a wagonload of stuff that has too much emotional value to leave on Earth to burn?
Maybe it's just the anticipation of loss that bothers me. As they say, the anticipation of something is much greater than the event itself. Generally speaking, of course. But I think it applies here. If I was told now that my kindergarten paintings had been accidentally thrown out, it probably wouldn't bother me. But if I was told that they were about to be thrown out, I think I would protest greatly, and do what I could to intervene.
At any rate, I'm anticipating a few more hours of packing tonight--and I'm dreading that. My back is already in pain from the anticipated exertion.
"Young children seem to thrive better under a system which has at least a skeletal outline of rigidity, in which there is a schedule of a kind, some sort of routine, something that can be counted upon, not only for the present but far into the future." (Abraham Maslow)
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