Every so often I get the strong urge to get rid of things. To purge, to strip away, to simplify, to decrease. Occasionally, very occasionally, I follow through on it. The last month has set me in motion for some excellent decreasing. Our old roommate, who moved back to our home area a few years ago, has returned to the house. She decided to un-relocate and so we are once again a trio. When she left, she’d acquired very little in the way of possessions. The transport to her new rental was easy and quick. In the meantime though, she has furnished a small house. Moving her back in with us required some long overdue organization and purging on our part. I grumbled and procrastinated enough but in truth it effectively propelled me into readying for the move that is to come after the wedding. For that, I’m quite thankful. Boxes of household goods have been transported to his apartment and we are gradually finding places for it all in his rooms and cupboards. The work of it is making me very grateful to not have as much left to be done when the final move happens in October. The weeks before a wedding are full enough, I’m sure.
Anyway, my original point was the urge to strip away and simplify. It has lingered in the weeks following that round robin transferrance of belongings. I look in my tiny, stuffed to the gills closet, then think of my fiance’s large, more than enough room for one person closet, and realize that with some reductions on both our parts, we can share that closet just fine. I scan my bookshelves and picture the walls of Matt’s apartment, knowing full well that there are not enough empty spaces for the arrival of all my shelves. Many books will have to be stored. This brings a frown, a deep one, but I remind myself that there is likely a heap of books that I could reasonably choose to give up. It’ll be hard enough deciding which ones to pack into storage and which to keep at my fingertips. Having fewer to choose between is essential if I’m to do it without much sadness.
Maybe it’s a Lenten thing, maybe it’s just a starting-a-new-stage-of-life thing, or maybe Spring is to blame; whatever its root, I am becoming surer every day that I can be content with far less than what I have at present. I can reduce my wardrobe to what I actually wear and will never miss what I would like to but never do wear. I can give up the books that I enjoyed but not so much that I would ever read them again or even recommend and lend them to friends. I can surrender the dozens of CD’s and DVD’s that are rarely or never played and those too will not be missed. Yes, I’m becoming quite sure of it. I feel less locked into my material frivolities already, and that’s never a regrettable feeling.