Once upon a time my life was in order. It really was. I had files for everything and all my belongings had an assigned place. For the last 7 years things have just gone to hell in a handbag. My little piece of the world is a total reflection of good ol’ disorganized me.
Everyday I look at the stuff I have hung onto and ask myself do I still want or need to keep it. I am better than others I know, at ridding and thinning but I still hang onto stuff even if I don’t have room for it. My mother wanted to have an antique store and collected a lot of unique things. My mother died a few years ago. She had some interesting items but she also had many things that were just old and just reminder her of when she was young. She bought a lot of small, worthless, cool to look at, STUFF. My father died four years before my mother’s death and he had his collections too. Should I mention now that I am an only child? Should I mention they lived on over 30 acres and kept everything they ever laid their hands on? Sorting through that stuff by myself just about killed me. I have sold some of my parent’s collectibles. I have had at least five small estate sales.
I used to own a small bookstore and accumulated quite a few boxes of books. Books are heavy and require some care or they devalue quickly. As part of my ‘getting it back in order’ I am going through the boxes of books and making sure I still want to keep them to sell. There’s an ongoing garage sale set up in my tiny garage and if I come across something (book or otherwise) I don’t want; I take it to the ever growing garage sale.
As I whittle down my earthy processions I have been inundated with the purpose of my purchase and the realization that it is time to change the purpose. Repurposing can be such a poplar concept. Since neither of my sons want my stuff and I don’t have a big place to display it I want others to enjoy it. I want those collectors of same stuff to take it off my hands. Buy it! Give me money. If I have two of something, the second one is gone. I have little collections that I probably won’t break up but I do not need to have the mindset of keeping something “just in case”, because it was mothers, or because it might be valuable. I have come to a place in my life that I simply don’t enjoy the same stuff I that I used to. That is an important point to become aware of for me. There is too much stuff weighting me down right now.
Rose
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