to move: to pass from one place or position to another.  A notedly simple, and full, description. Uprooting is a wild choice, not by definition prudent nor foolish, though it could be either and is, more likely, both. I once moved a distance of half a city block, and carried my belongings over dozens of trips in suitcase-sized loads, like the would-be runaway child that couldn’t, quite. Of the organizational challenges pursuing me, the most interminable is the issue of stuff. I’ve long been a purger; I haven’t too many things. And yet, I have too much, and must make choices. Which isn’t impossible in and of itself, except that the stuff we carry relates directly to the lives we live, and a largely-unknown life is difficult to provide for. Oh, there are sure bets: underwear enough, toothbrush and floss, sensible shoes, a bucket of insect repellant, Pepto Bismol. But I’m meant to forge ahead on a separate continent with only two suitcase-sized loads to start, and I’m intent on fulfilling that charge, so things keep falling into and …