I am a sentimental stuff holder-onto-er. I attach value to inanimate objects, much more value than I should. And it’s kind of embarrassing to admit the twinge of fear I have in this process of going through and letting go.
This summer while the kids were with my parents, I cleaned out the playroom and got rid of two van-loads of things. The women at the donation place asked me if my kids knew I was getting rid of their stuff. Heavens no. When they got home, they didn’t miss one single thing. In fact, they thanked me for cleaning. (!!!)
On October 2, my sister, my mom and I are having a yard sale. Kimba and my sister have both posted about their stuff recently. In fact, my sister had so much interest in some of the things she’s selling that she decided to put a few things on e-bay. They aren’t just any few things. They are Vintage Nesting Place things. But all of her other things will be at the sale. Several SUV loads of things.
We do yard sales almost every year, and when they’re over, I always swear and promise and vow I will never do one again. But there is just enough time in between them that I forget the pain and only remember the good parts. Kind of like having a kid.
This year, I’m not just selling the junk. I mean, I’m selling the junk, but I’m also selling more than just the junk. I’ve been thinking a lot about stuff, about the things I have and the things I love. I have a lot more things than I love, but I also love a lot of the things I have. So this year, I’m selling the things I don’t want, but I’m also selling some of the things I love-ish. It was painful at first, to go through some of the twins baby clothes, to pull out that cute skirt I bought in Spain (but haven’t worn in four years), to realize I have 4 too many apothecary jars, to let go of the clock that I love but have no place to put. So I took my sister’s advice: just price it and put in the yard sale pile. Then see how you feel.
And you know what? I feel good. I thought I would go back out to the garage and pull out things to bring back in the house. But I haven’t and I don’t think I will. This lightness breeds a longing for less. I think I could get used to it.
If you are local-ish, the bi-annual neighborhood yard sale will be at my parent’s house in Lake Park.
Not that you need more stuff, but you know what they say about one man’s trash.
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