I am in the homestretch now. Only two weeks until I begin living without an address. Today I had a sale of my household and personal belongings. People were lined up outside in the cold when I opened the front door at 10 AM. Almost everything is being sold now, and I feel pretty good although I cried a little inside—selling my fine books at a fraction of their value. On the other hand, someone else was shouting with glee at the bargain.
Whatever is left when it is time to leave will be donated to worthy causes. I find it amazing how every day, all my moments are spent simply trying to divest of belongings and make arrangements for leaving. See how possessions can bind us? Anyway, glorious days are ahead. The itinerary is being written now.
Here are some passages from the the writings of the medieval Persian poet, Rumi (September 30, 1207–December 17, 1273):
When what you own can vanish, it's only a dream, a vanity.
Let the beauty we love be what we do.
We are pain and what cures pain, both.
The soul is here for its own joy.