Living from a Suitcase

I'm really nervous.
45 minutes until I leave.
It's just all the unknown factors that I'm worried about: my inability to speak French, transportation- all the nitty gritty details that every trip entails.

From having moved and traveled so much, I'm forced to limit myself to a suitcase or two. And it's funny to see how I prioritize my belongings- what things come to mind first when I pack, what I leave out, what I'm undecided to bring.

When in New York, there's no sense of permanence. When storing or purchasing things for myself, I wonder if it'll just be a nuisance when the times comes for me to turn in the keys of my temporary home and move out.

Shifting around globally has made me realize how much crap I have and my inability to part with all this 'junk'. I use the term 'junk' to describe all the stuff I have and love- though stuff that probably weighs me down more than it helps. And yet when spring cleaning comes around, I can't bear to part with those things.
Basically, I have two homes to store my stuff in: one in Manhattan and one here in Toronto. And both are brimming with stuff- when I'm in NY I keep telling myself there's a lot more room in Toronto to place my stuff in and to free up space in my New York apartment. But when I get back, I realize how stuffed my room is here and wonder if I should bring it back to New York where there's 'more' space. It's all a mind game.
I know, I collect and keep more stuff than I should.
Hoarding everything as boxes start piling up around me, accumulating dust.

Packing a suitcase always forces me to re evaluate what I love from what is most useful.

And it shows me how attached I can become to certain tangible items that may seem like such a big deal now, but in hindsight, are probably just minor things.

15 more minutes.
It's time to check things over.
Au revoir!