Working For A Living

I am working for a living.  That does not mean I am punching a clock while wishing I could punch some guy’s face for clocking in more hours of my life trying to make him money than I get to spend with my family.  On the contrary, I am doing something at home that is a lot of work, and I am doing it for a living, or a life, rather.  The packing is just beginning for me, and I am getting mine sorted first because I expect it to be the easiest part of this move.  I like the things I own, some in particular, but I am not too attached to things since I prepared to move to England and had to rid myself of so much then.  Hours and hours of life are spent in earning money that soon vanishes away on things that in the end are not worth the time spent earning the money to buy them.  So, thankfully, all of the things I own that I want to take with me will fit into two tea chests, and anything that doesn’t gets to fit into a dustbin.  Leaving a country is like dying, and so far, this is the second  time I have seen myself die.  Those who clean up after my eventual demise would do just as well to do the inevitable and pile my stuff into the bin and forget it. 

Despite this view on my personal belongings, making the decisions gets harder as things are whittled down.  After all, the more I throw out, the closer I get to those things that I place a higher value on.  Of course photographic equipment went in first.  There needs to be space for computer gear because the documents I think I will need are stored on drives and not being carried in paper copies.  But what mementos?  What things will signify my life in the UK for the last 8 years?  What will I display on a shelf somewhere to show to others that I was here?  What thing can signify that amount of time?  Alas, only I can sit on that shelf.

They say when you visit a place of natural beauty you should take only photographs and leave only footprints.  But the other side is that the place both takes from you, and leaves something with you.  England has taken time, has taken some of what made me that much more naive, it has taken my breath away, and it has choked me.  It has left me with a wider view of the world, a greater knowledge and understanding, and it has left me with a more open mind to many things.  England has made me a cynic, and an optimist.  In England I have took the hand of a Prince, and I have walked among the graves of Kings.  I have stood atop the walls that defended a nation that would rise to a power never before seen in the world, whose Empire still covers more land on earth than any other in history.  And as the sun never sets on the British Empire, the sun of England should never set in me. 

So what thing among my things should represent that? 

I’ll whittle with the care of Michelangelo, to reveal from the vessel the form within.   

From Worcester,

Kelsey Bacon