Moving to a new house exposes years of forgotten ideas, past actions you no longer perform, chance encounters from long ago with people you haven't seen in who knows how long.
Remember this?
When I did this, it was new. Now it's dusty, questionable.
What used to be here? What made this rectangle of dust on the the table top? I can't remember. It's just dust now. A ghost of myself. The shades of a shade. Past spirits among the present spirit.
Whew... I see why people don't like to move. I see why old people stop moving and hunker down among their hidden, forgotten shades. Moving them stirs them up, disrupts their slumber, angers them. To disturb them all at once risks retribution of bad dreams, doubt, and sadness.
