Unless you happened to look closely before yesterday, you wouldn’t know that the empty cubby used to hold more cookbooks. A few are already packed up for the move, but most are in the recycle pile.

The same is true of this book case. Books in poor condition, books not opened in years, and books that can bring joy to others have been removed. What’s left is an emptiness that’s taken up residence between what remains. What has been present in my living space is absent.

No longer present, Absent, is not the same thing as leaving a Void behind. This Absent isn’t removing anything vital or necessary; instead, it’s leaving room to see more clearly what is left – and offering me a chance to see if what remains is truly vital or necessary. Absent relieves my arms of lugging heavy boxes that crowd my living space; Absent also relieves me of the weight that too many possessions places on my mind and soul.

For the fourth time in just under three years, I’m getting ready to move from one home to another. Not everything will make it into boxes and onto the truck. Enough will remain for guests to stay here in the rectory in relative comfort – cook a decent meal, take a hot shower, and sleep in a comfortable bed.

What is necessary, beautiful, and life-enhancing will be boxed and delivered. What is no longer needed, just taking up space, will be donated, recycled, or thrown out. Sorting through it all isn’t quick or easy: it’s an exercise of intention and of spiritual discernment, letting go of material things burden rather than uplift. These accumulated things have taken up psychic, emotional, and spiritual space as well as shelf and closet room. It’s time to lighten the load.

There are still a lot of items on my moving punch list, and numerous items on my calendar that narrow down when I can get them done. Then there are the usual chores that have to be done if I want to keep my living space from descending into dusty chaos. Things to do, places to go, people to see must be done, gone to, and seen. But just as important are the spaces in between all that – the places where joy and love shine, and grief and sadness find their way into prayer. Stillness offering unexpected refreshment and a glimpse of the wonder that surrounds.

And, if I’m lucky, the presence of a kindred spirit.

Most of the curtains are up, most of the boxes are emptied, and the majority of what everyday life requires is in place. There are still quite a few things on the punch list, but none of them need to be done RIGHT NOW. So there’s a new jigsaw puzzle set up on the table in the living room, and I spent an hour reading last night.

Sometimes, time is better spent without getting things done. The work can wait – sometimes, the rest cannot…

I had my work space all set up in a cozy nook on the second floor. The window offered a lovely view of the street, which becomes a mountain view once the leaves fall off the trees across the street. That spot also gets the best light in the house, and is the one place that is perfect for growing plants. But that spot isn’t big enough to provide a work space and a growing space. So I packed up my work table and bookcases and moved them into a spare bedroom.

It was a journey of thirty-five feet, but it took four hours and a bit of rearranging to get the space in good order (I snapped this picture about halfway through the process). With such a short distance to travel, I was surprised at how dislocated everything got. It took me almost as long to relocate everything in the new work space as it did to set it up in the first space.

In the grand scheme of things, this little move up a hallway doesn’t amount to much. In the present, this little move doesn’t feel as little as I thought it would. This dislocation and relocation are small tremors that barely affect my life, not full-on quakes that throw everything into chaos, and I should not confuse the two. Perhaps one of the gifts of this mini-move is a chance to put such things in proper perspective.

The work space is all set now; the table is in front of the window, so I get a lovely view of the side yard. I have yet to set up the plant space. I’m sure that will involve some dislocation and relocation as well…