I’m curating my crap, preparing to move into my first real estate purchase, realizing how many of my physical possessions weigh me down. Papers, letters, taxes from ten years ago, planners from fifteen years back when I used to use an At-a-Glance Full Weekend datebook, even though I had way fewer things going on. They’re all heavy. They’ve all been accumulating dust mites in a four-drawer file cabinet, stuffed to the gills and never referenced. It’s only while looking at these things — in particular, some old letters — that I am instantly transported to the first time reading them. While I’d had no current headspace dedicated to them, by randomly pulling through the six shoeboxes worth, I fondly recalled them. This is not how I want my life (or my impending move) to grow. I’d rather rely on my brain and the mushy, fuzzy impressions of the people across the arc of my life, rather than having to carry around the physical memories of the minutiæ. Thus I find it fitting to be posting on my blog about this. How freeing are the digital possessions. They live online, they only accumulate RTs and likes.