So I spent the weekend packing for the most part. Also went to Quaker service and watched Stardust and some fabulously bad TV. But the moving thing.
I have, I think always, one of the most persistent cases of wanderlust I've known. To me, life has always felt ephemeral and so somehow moving around actually seemed to give me more grounding. More sense of being aligned with the essential nature of things. But this weekend, as I took stock and tried to organize my relatively meager possessions I was gripped by fear and anxiety of being in limbo again. Apparently, I have no issue with non-stop travel, but I fear not having a place with my stuff. I literally feared that while my "stuff" was nowhere or somewhere in between, the link between me and the real world could be much more easily severed and thus I could be evaporated somehow. It has been a while since I have had such a visceral reaction to life that is so clearly "irrational".
So I wrote the landlord and asked if I could get the keys a couple of days early. That way I cna bring car loads of certain stuff over before the move which will give me stuff in both places while my "stuff" is in limbo. This I am convinced will be enough to maintain the link between me and the real world. I might be a little bit crazy.