The Art of Letting Go (of stuff)

I’ve finally faced it. I have a problem. All my life, I have had trouble letting go of things. If you can believe it, I have held onto dolls from my childhood, pint-size ice skates, suitcases with broken zippers and kitchen gadgets I have no use for. Let me be clear, I am not a hoarder. I gladly throw away out of date newspapers and broken rubber bands. However, I do have an attachment with things that have come into my life that I have cared for and still see good use for – just not use by me. So why is it so hard to part with things?

I tried to pawn off this characteristic as a family trait. But my sisters, all having good stuff, have easily parted with possessions over the years. One of my sisters is proud of her achievements in clearing out unessentials. She brags that she is once again getting rid of things. How, I wonder, could she have anything left that they don’t need? Has she taken to sleeping on the floor or eating from paper plates?

Truth be told, I admire her lack of affection for her things. I think my problem is inherited from my mother; a condition called “packus rattus.” When Mom ended up going into a senior care facility, I was astonished at the myriad of unuseful things she had accumulated in closets rarely opened. Let me just say that many of these items were still in their boxes. My sisters were logically horrified at all this accumulation and I, well I feigned a mild disgust, but was anxious to take those things to my home to add to my nest.

Yes, I read Marie Kondo’s book on Tidying. Does it spark joy? I asked this question over and over again in my home and, on some strange level, it all sparked joy. I had to devise a scale of joy from one to five of how much joy it sparked and then, I added usefulness into the equation. When I confided in my sister regarding my packus rattus issue (of no surprise to her), she was anxious to help me get rid of things. She offered to come to my home and do it herself. “Thanks, but heavens no!” was my response. I didn’t like sleeping on the floor. So she appealed to my sense of charity. “Wouldn’t you get a great feeling knowing that someone else who needed it was using it?” No. I didn’t feel motivated by that. What if they broke it after all these years of me taking care of it? What if they threw it away?

So why even bother to get rid of things in my home? Because I was starting to feel overwhelmed by stuff. Every time I looked around, there were few open places to stack things I really did use, there was an atmosphere of vintage-ness that I didn’t like, I felt chaos and a lack of focus. And, most importantly, I felt Spirit telling me to. I would pray about other issues in my life and all I seemed to hear in return was, “Clear things out.” How can I argue with Divine direction in this matter? Knowing that a higher power was directing me made me believe that there is something profoundly important about not being surrounded by clutter (particularly unuseful clutter) in our homes. A good friend reminded me that nothing we have on this earth is really ours anyway. It all belongs to God, we are only given stewardship over those things until we leave. That shed a new light on things. I now realized that it was an obligation to pass along things that others could use. So where to begin?

My first step was to clean out clothing I no longer wore or, embarrassingly, never wore. I took carloads full of clothing, many with their original tags on them to a local family resale shop. A kindly woman about my age, came to my car with me to help load black bags full of clothing onto a shopping cart. I went back inside to get a tag for my donation. I told her how difficult it was for me to part with the items I’d brought in. She said, “If you could see the faces of people who are excited to buy these items, you wouldn’t even think twice about it.” That had a big impact on me. Maybe there was something to what my sister said about others enjoying my things. I dug around in one of the bags for a beautiful purplish blue sweater I decided not to part with and left the store.

I reasoned that receiving monetary compensation for other things might persuade me to let go of some of it. I then listed items on a local swap and sell site thinking no one would respond. For many items, there was nothing. But others were snapped up instantly. Since I no longer drank coffee, I surrendered my like-new coffee pot with a built in grinder. I listed it for a reasonable price. The woman who came to pick it up told me that it was a gift for her brother. He was a policeman who worked the night shift and relied on his coffee to get him through his shift. His coffee pot had recently broken and they could not afford a new one of this quality. She was excited to give him that gift. I almost cried.

A Cheshire cat cookie jar that I loved looking at that had sat in my basement for years was next on the list. A woman immediately placed dibs online, but then, never showed up for it. When reposted, another wanted it. Again, I was surprised that someone else would value this item more than me. This young woman told me that this was a cookie jar identical to her late grandmother’s. When her grandmother died, she had taken her cookie jar into her home and a careless visitor had broken it. She had been looking for the past five years for a replacement. How could it have been her grandmother’s? was my first thought. Then, I realized I was that old and that I had kept this jar for that long. I almost cried.

The most touching story was when I decided to sell a workout station that I had used quite a bit when I lived in LA. However, space being limited at my current home, I had stored it in my garage where cords and surfaces were becoming aged by the elements. New, the item would cost at least $500. Other used ones online were listed for $100-$200. I listed it for $25. I had lots of nibbles, but no one took it until one day. I received an online message from a guy who said he wanted it. He was going to meet me at my home and his wife would arrive first from her place of work. Prior to his arrival, I had a moment to speak with her. She explained that her husband had been in a near fatal car accident and that, since the accident, he’d had a hard time regaining the use of his limbs. She had suggested a work out station that might help him in this effort. They looked online a long time and decided they couldn’t afford the ones for sale – until they saw my post.

When her husband arrived, I could see the effects of the car accident, as she had described. He prepared the back of his pickup truck to transport the machine, excited that the machine was in good condition, and that he was handy enough to reattach certain pulleys, etc. They struggled to get the heavy machine in the back of the truck. I walked to it, lifted an end with one arm and easily slid it into the truck. It seemed light as a feather. Wow, you are strong, he commented. Maybe, but not in the way he thought. It was just another testament and lesson to me that there are blessings in allowing this flow of things in and out of our lives. For me, it was becoming apparent that my joy wasn’t the issue, but whether it might spark joy for someone else. In each case, I felt, beyond doubt, that these items were meant for these people. I was an instrument in providing an answer to someone else’s need or prayer.

I no longer question if my items are going to a good home though I do thoughtfully try to find the best way to distribute or sell them. I trust that the universe will send them to a place where they can be best used. I still have a hard time letting go of some things, but now, as I ask if it sparks joy, I also pray that Spirit will lead me to those items that most need to exit my home. I find that things I have passed every day as I walk through my house are brought to my attention as candidates for donation or sale. I don’t really care about the money all that much, but figure it’s OK for me to be able to receive some compensation that will help me buy groceries, and also found that people gladly give money for something they value. It’s a healthy exchange.

I am always amazed that as we truly ask for help with anything in our lives, large or small, we receive answers in ways we could never expect. And sometimes, by small and seemingly insignificant actions, we are brought to greater perspectives on life. I don’t think my friends will ever refer to me as being Zen, but I’m looking forward to the benefits of letting go, following my divine instruction, and having space for that new kitchen gadget I just bought (just kidding).