My small room is full of stuff I can't keep. These fall into the following categories: things I brought with me from New York and didn't use (after not having used them in New York), like a harmonica and three pairs of flats; things I accumulated in Madison and didn't use, like a purple lurex top and some nice tins for holding tea; things I had in New York and Madison
and seem too useful to get rid of, like a harmonica & flats & India ink & a humidifier & an old dish shift sign-up sheet & a biography of Grace Paley & two corkboards & several short coats. One solution is to sell things to local people. I sold the iPod Touch I got by rebate with my new computer to Syrym (room 27), who took it to Kazakhstan today and will bring me $$$ after he sells it there. I sold my speakers to Jacquie and my bike to Kate (room 5). I gave a photo of Obama to Katie (room 32) and shells to Julia T (room 2). I gave coop-related drawings and emotional ephemera to Elise (room 28).
Moving also fucking sucks because it means you have to say goodbye to people. In this case, I also have to say goodbye to a community that I've helped build and maintain. I'm frequently involved with some contained community that has clearly articulated roles and responsibilities--probably less clearly defined boundaries--so I have a lot of experience with being part of something and having to leave it. Each time it's heartbreaking. In response to saying goodbye to each other, people have different reactions. Some get mushy, some get angry, some get distant, some put it all behind us, some bring it to the fore. Some plan to stay in touch and some say they will but don't mean it. The easiest goodbyes are when you know the relationship is mostly done but still remember each other fondly. Relationships that allow this kind of warm but easy separation are few for me, because I am needy. So right now I'm dealing with being realistic: the current incarnation of my most meaningful relationships is about to be over, but this doesn't mean something different and equally sustaining can't emerge. That Sensibility Meter has been telling me to pull away for the past two weeks, but house meetings and writing policy and making video tours and doing dishes and loving this place are unavoidable. Leaving this place is unavoidable. I am a part of this. I am apart of this.