Lately I have been purging our belongings.
Really.
Like A LOT.
I have given away two-thirds of my clothing.
Half of my shoes.
Lots and lots of books.
Three-quarters of my children's toys.
And housewares.
Don't even get me started.
Coffee mugs...mismatched plates...chipped bowls. Skillets. Tea towels. Lid-less Tupperware.
Appliances.
Oy.
Whoever thought I would need half of the electric gizmos I have? A special donut maker? Really? Quesadilla maker? Even an electric can opener.
Ummm...no.
I'm good, thanks.
Give me my crockpot and my Kitchen-Aid mixer. I am completely happy.
I don't own my possessions.
They own me.
They dictate to me...
"Now you will wash me."
"Now you will store me."
"Now you will maintain me."
"Now you will worry about me."
I'm really, really, REALLY tired of my things owning my time...my attention...my money.
It is true that less is more.
Fewer things - fewer worries.
Less stress. Less work.
More time to spend on other pursuits.
It's a really good feeling...this purging of stuff.
There is a freedom that comes with empty shelves...empty drawers...empty hangers.
I wonder where we got the idea that we need all we have? That more was better? That it was "convenient" to have a bunch of plastic plates (that melt in the microwave and retain odors) than 8 good quality, durable pieces of dinnerware.
I have always enjoyed moving. It always seems like we have so much less stuff when we first move in...BEFORE all the boxes are unpacked.
Soon, however, the lovely open spaces begin to fill up with...things.
And I begin the mad shuffle dance...put-it-here-put-it-there-no-it's-better-over-there-oh-who-cares-shove-it-ANYWHERE.
No more.
I refuse to hang onto every magazine I have ever purchased. The ideas are old and outdated anyway.
And now I have Pinterest...all the ideas I need and more!!! And nothing to shuffle!
I refuse to keep every article of clothing I have obtained.
I don't care what brand it is or how much it cost. If it doesn't fit, or if I don't feel good wearing it...out it goes.
Same with shoes. I don't care how cute they are. If they hurt my feet they're outta here.
I am 45 years old. I have earned the right to my matronly comfort. If I don't want to wear 4 inch vanity heels anymore I DON'T HAVE TO!
Whew.
That felt good.
Now...I know this next part will shock you, but in 26 years of marriage we have never purchased new furniture. (Not counting baby cribs.) We have a loving mishmash of second-hand furniture.
I am thankful.
I am not complaining.
I do not intend to buy furniture. What we have is lovely.
But we have too much. Out it goes.
My children's toys. Too much plastic stuff. Olivia is almost 12. She doesn't play with toys often.
And Julia? It's kinda funny, but she gravitates to the old, vintage toys we have.
The Fisher-Price little people. You know...the ones that run on IMAGINATION -not batteries.
The Chatty Phone (Though I don't think she's ever seen a phone with a receiver. And a cord. And a rotary dial. She knows exactly how to play with it!)
And the dolls.
And books. Like Dick and Jane.
I think she likes the realistic pictures that make sense...
"Look...there is a daddy washing the car. There is a mommy ironing. There is a boy playing with his dog. There are Sally and Puff."
These are the things I am keeping.
Blocks. Puzzles. Books. Interactive toys that require more than pushing a button.
Out with the plastic Dora.
Out with push-button Barney books.
(Ummmm...where did we get a push-button Barney book anyway? I am mystified.)
You see...
I want to sew and garden and cook and bake. I want to play with my girls and my grandson. I want to read and paint and write and create.
I want my girls to use the amazing imaginations they have. I don't want their play to be a regurgitation of someone else's preconceived script.
(Which is yet another reason we don't watch TV or movies...but that's another post.)
I have too much life to live and not enough time to live it.
And I'm tired of juggling my stuff.
I have way, way, WAY better things to do.
No comments:
Post a Comment