Letting Go and Gathering Things

This is the last weekend of our big everything-is-going-before-we-move-out-of-our-home sale.

It will be interesting to see what we are left with. Originally, we were saving quite a bit of items. The children's bedroom sets, our bedroom set, BBQ. But we have realized as time has gone on, that these are all just "things." Every "thing" is a thing that is replaceable or we can live without.
Letting go of one "thing," led the way to letting go of another "thing."
Letting go of the dining room set, led the way to letting go of the rugs. Letting go of the wheelbarrow, led the way to letting go of the workbench. Letting go of our nightstands, led the way to letting go of our bed. On and on, until we felt free. Free to say, we really don't need to save any of it.
Free to say... Free to sell... Free to go...

There just aren't words for the intense feelings of letting go of your belongings. I have cried, laughed, or just been excited by a sale. I have felt pure release. Release of old ideas, of old purposes, of old goals. How did these ideas, purposes and goals get attached to "things?" Strange, but now, as time grows short before we move out of our house, I feel calmer, much more relaxed. It must be some kind of Zen experience.

I think how much we are taxed and burdened by our things. To collect them, we use the energy of work to buy them, or they are given to us, or found. Then we must find a place to keep them, more energy of work to prop them up, or nail them on a wall or keep them in boxes and store them.

Then we feel them. We think about them in the back of our minds.

They might be worth a lot of money or heartfelt value and we feel responsible to keep them well, safe and like new. We worry they might get broken or damaged or worn. We tell or yell at the children to be careful around them. We may choose to use our energy to work to make the money to insure them. We may feel anxiety or stress or cry if we lose or break them.

They might not be worth anything, yet we feel them looming in boxes, closets and storage and we tell ourselves "One day I am going to go through all these things!"

Or they may be utilitarian and we see them everyday, month or year and after using them we clean them, and store them. We repair them and keep them looking good and working good.

Then there is the vanity of things. You know what I am talking about. I don't want a white t-shirt. I want a t-shirt that is from Nordstrom, or Talbots, or the Gap. I don't want silverware, I want silverware from William-Sonoma, or Macy's or Pottery Barn. I don't want a car, I want a car that tells people I have tons of money to spend. I know this. I have done this, and I am not really sure why. I understand that some items are just a better quality, but a lot of them are not. They are all made in China. They are all made by someone who can't afford to buy these things for themselves. This vanity can make us feel superior, or just plain guilty. I have honestly felt both ways.

Whether we believe it, or see it, or feel it, every single thing we own, is a responsibility to us, large or small, whether the thing is of great use or just a burden. In our country we are so laden with things. We have huge garages, walk-in closets, walk-in pantries, huge kitchens, huge linen closets, coat closets, and storage units. There are reality shows that teach people how to get rid of their things. There are professionals who will come in and organize your things. And we, a young family of four, have had an on-going moving sale for the past 4 weeks and still have a room-full and garage-full of tons of things. I wonder how people would feel if they could keep every item in their house, but just cleared out the attic or basement. Cleared out the items that you are saving because it is worth something to your heart, or you think you might sell if for a fortune on day, or you are saving it for the holiday that comes once a year.

As a woman, I understand the strong force of the "gathering" instinct. As the colder weather comes, I start to feel a push to go out and shop. Even now, as I am getting rid of most everything I own, I have had to stop myself from shopping for clothes, sheets, dishes, blankets. We have all these things, but my need to gather is strong. I broke down and bought a beautiful smelling candle. How many times do we re-buy blankets, decorations, clothes before we have worn out what we already have? We have gotten rid of 3 sets of sheets, and still have 3 sets left. Who needs 6 sets of sheets? The gathering force does not care for logical thought. Like clockwork once a year, since we have had a king sized bed, I have been compelled to gather new sheets. "Stay warm" the ancient voice tells me, get ready for winter...

Maybe we could try to stop. Maybe we could try to tell ourselves we have enough. Maybe the next time we instinctively buy sheets, we drop them off at the local shelter. Or better yet, maybe we stop and look around at our overwhelming stock of abundance, and tell ourselves to save the money that it took energy to work for, and clear out half of our closets and donate them to the local shelter. They are still gathering. They are worried about winter coming. For them, it is a matter of survival.