This was the practice: I was starting to get rid of my possessions, at least the useless ones, because possessions stood between me and death. They didnt protect me from death, but they created a barrier in my understanding, like many layers of bubble wrap, so that instead of thinking about what was coming and the beauty that was here now, I was thinking about the piles of shiny trinkets Id accumulated. I had begun the journey of digging out.

These Precious Days by Ann Patchett