Perhaps the first phase of moving from one place to the other is placing a foot on the correct route. Getting to my route requires digging out of the rubble.
This, of course, is metaphorical rubble, the mention of which seems a bit inappropriate in the face of all those I have seen who have had to contend with literal rubble; rubble in life is rubble though.
Pulling things from the ceiling and from high shelves, digging through the darkened burrows of self perpetuating piles, shifting through the moldering bits, scouring the caked and grimed, and removing all the flat and useless things to a safe space beyond my eyes.
The rubble or clutter is the noise in the signal to noise ratio that we are committed to at birth. The light footprint is light because the maker is not heavily loaded. Here in my home, we will no longer load ourselves heavy. Today was lighter; tomorrow will be more so.
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