Saying Goodbye

As I've mentioned recently, I just moved to a new apartment. Like the wildebeest of the Serengeti, moving is an annual passage for me. Seeing as that I am a pack-rat (Pak-rat? haha), I've tried in the last two years to cull my belongings, much of which have absolutely no redeeming value to anyone on this planet, except for me (yes I am a touch sentimental). This years cull was the most difficult one yet...

You've heard me mention my on-going metamorphosis (Kafka anyone?) and I've voiced my concern about losing, what I consider a powerful quality i.e. 'the human element'. No I'm not transforming into a robot (although that would be hella cool), I just don't want to become detached, and disconnected. It's a fine line, and because I'm aware of this, I'll be vigilant to safeguard against such a change.

Part of the metamorphosis has meant that I've realized I'm a different person today and my core motivations have changed i.e. they have gone from hot to cold, from anger to calculation, from revenge to achievement, and yes from hatred to love. It ties in with an epiphany I had three years ago driving through the cornfields of Indiana in the dead of night- more on that another time.

So what does any of this have to do with moving? Well seeing that I'm emerging as a different person I realized that many of the attachments to my worldly possessions had to be broken. I'm trying to lead a lean existence where every element in my life contributes to my overarching success and all else is extraneous- and what is extraneous must be eliminated. Sadly this time around, it meant my book collection suffered.

I love books. On a good run I devour 2-3 a month and over the years I had built up a decent library, probably in the vicinity of 300 titles. They were my foundation, a constant thread throughout all my travels, a timeless companion and friend. However, truth be told, in the past year my previously voracious reading appetite has subsided considerably. Perhaps it's because I'm a different person now? I need less noise in my life, and my patience for reading is limited. But how do I get rid of these books that I love? What separates me from the Nazis during their book burning fervor during Kristallnacht? Well, here's my ultimate justification (and it's a good one- rationalization is the key human illusion):

There was a time in my life where I needed the strength and wisdom found in these words to help me navigate that passage of time. By keeping these books I'm hoarding wisdom that can perhaps help another young person in their life today.

So with that, I purged 85% of all my books...I retained, maybe, 50 of 300 titles. I hope the rest find a good home.