Containers for the things contained

Don't you just hate it when time comes to move or you're just doing some spring cleaning and after a rewarding day freeing yourself of clutter you come to a face off:

you vs. the box (you packed 10 years ago and have been moving ever since!)

It seems that most people have one or a few of those in their attic or basement or wherever...but why?

I have thought about this at length, because just this weekend Mr. J and I were doing a little clean up with a resolution that we really don't need two of everything. (Mostly I just finally am giving in and deciding that he's allowed to stay for a long time...maybe even forever...dare we say it out loud and not jinx it!).

We in fact had a few of those boxes in the attic, and spurred by the free shredding happening at the local IKEA, we decided to tackle this with such fervor that not even a lunch break was allowed. It was very interesting indeed to pull the boxes one by one, and rediscover the years of our youth gone by...

I found it interesting the we looked through the papers and miscellaneous items with curiosity, but also a little nervousness...maybe a little dread. After not looking into them in so long, we completely forgot what was there. The anticipation of finding something that reminded us of sad times, or something that we've worked so hard all these years to forget, completely overshadowed all the pleasant surprizes...all the little pieces of paper that reminded us of the fun, the carelessness of our young lives, when carefree living made us just dump these things into a box and go...

So why is that things that we cared to pack up one day, had become this dead weight that we have carried from place to place for so long instead? Why are these boxes in particular the ones that we did not unpack? What is this fear that humans have? It is interesting to me when people mention how they deal with these mystery boxes (or for some maybe just folders or envelopes)...they let them be until some arbitrary amount of time passes and they throw them out. I have in the past simply thrown a box away...never checking what was in it.

Perhaps these little time capsules are our coping mechanisms. They are the devices we use to stow away our troubles, our memories that we wish to forget until we feel strong enough to let them go. Maybe they represent emotional bonds to places or people that we simply couldn't let go until we take them to the curb.

Or maybe, they are simply a symptom of our poor ability to manage clutter. Could it be that simple?

Well, this is a conundrum that I am sure could cost thousands of dollars in quality shrink time, but the fact remains that the boxes are gone. Our work is done. We feel lighter...We are moving on...