Our house sale closes on Wednesday, and we have been packing furiously for the past month. Every cabinet, drawer and closet has gone through the ritual of evaluation; do I need it, do I want it, will I ever use it again, when was the last time I actually used this thing? We have over 90 boxes packed, and still counting, and that is with major downsizing efforts. At this point, I have given away or sold most of the furniture I have owned.
When we started the discussion about escaping into the next chapter of our lives, decisions had to be made about what to keep. Storage is expensive, and then things stored need to be moved again- also expensive. My living room couch seemed like an absolute keeper, until I got realistic about mice. Even if the couch is wrapped in plastic, the likelihood of it being infested by the time we came back for it was pretty high. I loved this couch. I took time to pick out the style and the fabric. I sit on that couch every morning and meditate. How could I get rid of it?
Practicality won out and my couch, love seat, and end tables are going to a great new owner in need, and I am relieved. I was so certain I could not part with certain things, but now I feel as if I am being disentangled. The attachment to the material things in my life is decreasing in a rather dramatic way- it feels good to not be focused on acquiring anything and to be shedding the clutter and possessions.