The books are disappearing into boxes...
I find it interesting to note the order in which I am addressing the packing this time:
First the bone chine tea set, rarely used, saved for best, in France I will drink my morning tea from one of the cups perhaps with a little home-baked ginger biscuit in the saucer because it is, after all, the little things that make a good life.
Then the two very expensive crystal glasses, bought for me by a friend over forty years ago, to be used during romantic dinners, I have never used them. Is this becoming a metaphor for my life? The little luxuries I never felt good enough to use?
Then the books. Ah, the books. So many books. Many I'd forgotten I'd bought and have not read. When did my life become so busy that I have dozens of unread books? I sorted them into piles, some to donate to the hospital in Oxford, some for a friend to take to her local pub where they will be sold for another good cause... It's hard to part with books, hard but necessary. It's the holding on to old books that I have already read that keeps me from opening new ones, I think. Perhaps. Well, it's a state of mind that I wish to change.
But it is taking me a long time to pack for this move.
And I don;t know if that indicates a reluctance? A fear of the future? A desire to cling to that which is familiar? Nostalgia? Idleness? Perhaps I just have too much time on my hands, Having too much time is another problem for another post. Remind me sometime, please.
Back to the books.
Do I take all of the books on cyber security?
I have spent hundreds of pounds on books, books on programming, reverse engineering, hacking, internet forensics, operating systems internals...
Do I pack them and take them to Brittany? Or do I give them away? Would anyone want them? Do I want them? Do I, more to the point, need them? It was an interesting job, protecting cyber space, stopping spammers and scammers from stealing from people, occasionally reporting the image of a terrified abused child to the IWF, writing complex code to counter the Bad Guys' evil intentions. It was interesting and worthwhile and it almost broke me.
Do I want to hang on to the books?
Do I want to let go?
I am smiling because I imagine them in the dog's crate, behind bars, padlocked, safely out of harm's way. Perhaps I'll do that with all of these books that remind me of the dark side of the Internet. After all, that's what moving forward is all about, neutralising the toxic emotions, disarming that which harmed us, mentally reducing it to an amusing image, and letting it go.