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Tomorrow the movers come.

Friends came over yesterday to help -- only the second actual day of packing since I had been in DC working on a client's move earlier in the week.

My apt is now a maze of boxes and furniture.

There are holes in the wall that need patching.

I need a few more boxes.

And I'm ambivalent about how much more I want to do since the movers will be here in the morning.

Once again, it comes down to time or money.

There are some things I can pack to make tomorrow go quicker and easier but I also have some work to do today so ... doing a little cost benefit analysis to figure out how much time I want to spend inside boxes today.

One of the benefits of being organized is that there isn't much extra here in my home -- there was no big purge as things came off shelves and out of drawers.

I did decide to let go of about 25 books -- mostly mysteries I have read that I won't read again.

So why not spread them around?

I have deep gratitude for the things that surround and support me in my home -- from art to appliances.

They provide comfort and convenience and I'm grateful that I don't have more than I need.

I have enough.

It makes moments like this easier to navigate.

Where in your life is "enough" a source of satisfaction?

And where is it dismissed or discounted in the search for "more?'

Last week was a hectic week --I was in DC working on a client's move.

36 hours in three days.

Not typical but we had a small window to get it done.

During our work, the husband and wife learned a bit more about each other.

More than a few times, the wife would say, "I'm ready to let it go, but you'll need to check with _______. He really loves such and such."

When we checked with him, he was not attached at all and out it went.

And vice versa. The husband would remark, "Linens are her thing. I don't care about this but check with her."

When we did, she'd say, "If he's ready to let it go, so am I. I thought he liked that but I'm fine with it leaving."

Which freed them up to start asking questions of each other. Soon questions were flying around as things were uncovered.

"Can we finally get rid of this? I've never liked it."

And, "Can we get a new one of these when we get there? This one has never worked right."

We were all amused at the number of things that had insinuated their way into the home as a result of:

Cost -- it was free or a "bargain"
Source -- it was a gift, memento or souvenir
Inertia -- no one was clear on how it got there but once there, everyone just accepted that it belonged there

Over and over they were surprised -- both independent of each other and together -- at how much stuff they have.

"We did this already. We already purged a bunch of stuff. I can't believe there is still this much stuff here that we don't need."

By the time I left, their living room was filled with things to be given away or donated. A sectional, a cabinet of drawers and a shelving unit had been Freecycled.

The house looked comfortable and spacious and ready to be shown for sale.

Furniture had been identified to be moved and to be left behind. They were thrilled at how much stuff they had found to let go of.

And they were now looking forward to the move.

Along with all the stress that comes with moving, they were able to see the relocation as an opportunity for a fresh start.

They saw the freedom that comes with less.

Once again they learned: Lose the story, lose the stuff.

I'm moving my home next week.

Which, if you've ever moved, you know can be both exciting and intimidating. And while I may be "the most organized man in America," moving brings out the best and worst in me, too.

Granted, I don't have a junk drawer filled with random stuff. But I do still have all the other stuff that needs to be sorted through, packed up and schlepped across town.

So as I start to pull books off the shelves and clothes out of the closets, I get to see what I'm hanging onto and the stories I'm telling myself about these things as well.

It's a great way to keep myself honest and make sure I'm walking my talk.

So far I've let go of two fleece pullovers. I've never liked the way they fit. One was a gift from a friend and one was purchased on a surprisingly cold day in Seattle when I needed an extra layer.

Like everyone else, I was keeping them because:

A) a good friend had given it to me

B) I had spent "good" money on it

As I say often, no one (except maybe a thief or drug dealer) ever spent "bad" money on anything.

Every penny we've ever earned is "good" money. And regardless of HOW good it is, if the object no longer serves us, it's time for it to go.

I've started a thrift store bag by the front door and it now contains two fleeces and some DVDs I'll never watch again.

Stay tuned over the next week as more things leave and more stories come to light!

This is my new favorite line!

It came to me during my last class at NY Open Center and I think succinctly sums up the process of dealing with historic accumulation.

Those random piles may be daunting and overwhelming, but they become even more intimidating once you start to dismantle them into smaller piles of "like" items.

So you want to mentally and emotionally prepare yourself as best you can for what will happen once you start to take those piles apart.

The mess will get bigger before it gets better.

Knowing that won't change the scale of what's in front of you, but it will soften the surprise when things seem to grow exponentially.

There really was THAT much stuff anyway, it was just a bit neater or contained.