Out With the Old

After our massive house reshuffling event of 2015 a few weekends ago, I ended up with a pile of excess "stuff" we have amassed. I piled it up at the bottom of the stairs instead of finding new hiding places for it. I was pretty sure I could find homes for most of it and I was right.

I had a light daycare day on Monday, so I took individual pictures of this "stuff" so I could advertise it to give away on Kijiji as soon as I could find a free day. Yesterday was not entirely "free" but I thought I could squeeze my free-for-all into a relatively calm daycare day. And I did.

I placed twelve ads in between 8:45 a.m. and 1:30 p.m. and by 5:30, nine out of twelve ads were answered, spoken for and picked up. I have people interested in two of the three items left over and what used to be a pile that was four feet high by two feet across by another five feet in width is all but a memory. Three boxes sit by the front door in anticipation of being picked up this morning and if the other two items don't go, they will be donated (along with the clothes that I must cull through and get rid of - another weekend's project).

I have at least four closets that need a good culling and the job of shedding that which we no longer use is getting a little easier with time.

I don't know what it is about a heart that constricts as it looks at "too much" and doesn't know where to begin. Is it because I'm overwhelmed? Is it fear of letting go? Is it the longing to hold onto what once was? Or the fear of regret, after giving away something I wish we still had?

It feels good to re-home that which we no longer use or want. I could donate this to a cause who would come and pick it up then resell it, with proceeds going towards their overhead and a charity. But there is something that feels very good and very right about cutting out the middleman. I like giving freely and getting the sense that anyone who makes their way to our doorstep to pick it up will most likely utilize that which has been gathering dust around here.

I gaze at the empty spot where everything has been piling up and smile. My load feels a little lighter when I'm not carrying excess baggage. Every time I do this, I almost look forward to the next cathartic purging of our closets and drawers. Almost.

I long for just a little more time within my weeks. Seven days is just not enough. Not if I want to enjoy that new bedroom I moved into a few weeks ago. Mom asked me how I am enjoying it. "I love it!" I told her. "I just wish I could spend more time in it!" Mom wasn't expecting that answer. She had guessed I would be full of regret over my decision. How could I be? I moved everything except my closet into my new "suite". It holds no excess baggage. It is freeing to walk into a room (which resembles a hotel suite, only better because I don't have to move out of it in a day or two) which is not crying out, "De-clutter me!" in this house full of surplus.

It's coming. Out with the old is making room for the new. Or used. A friend just donated her old computer to our daycare last night, in the hope I will be able use the pile of outdated kid's computer games that I have not been able to part with. Yet ...

Can these be saved or are they the next things to go? 

Stay tuned and I'm sure you'll find out, whether you care or not!