July 2012 Downsizing: The Art of Letting GoEach fall, my neighbor prunes his tree so severely, I'm sure the poor thing will perish. Downsizing can feel like you are cutting away too much of your life, your past. You are convinced you won't survive. But you will. Life's rhythms are punctuated by periods of expansion and contraction. Think of your heartbeat or the breath cycling through your lungs. Downsizing marks a period of cleansing and releasing. As you wade through your accumulated possessions, tough decisions must be made. What do you keep? What do you release? What no longer serves you? Theoretically, visualizing the limits of your new space will aid the process. If you are moving to a place half the size of your current home, then clearly choices must be made. I say theoretically, because knowing only two upholstered chairs will fit in your new abode is one thing. Deciding between the four chairs you own, is quite another. Perhaps two of the chairs will actually match (or at least not fight too horrendously) with the new home's fuchsia carpet. But the other chairs are more comfortable and not good candidates for reupholstering. Ah, the dilemma. Time has a way of deciding things. During my current cycle of downsizing, my mother has gone from saying, "You can't move away from your friends and family!" to "I'd like to buy your sofa and dining set." A relative, a Marine, is returning to the area and will need furniture for his new apartment. A friend needs a sofa. More offers pop up, and the need to call a consignment store dwindles. Letting go is easier when you know you'll be able to visit your furniture. Practice DetachmentThink of your belongings as people walking down a busy city street. A few capture your attention. Most blend into the crowd. Make an initial pass through your house. Practicing detachment, collect items that are no longer high on your radar. Start with your clothes. Cull whatever is no longer in fashion, no longer fits, or you haven't worn in over three years. Donate them or bring them to a consignment store before you change your mind. Outfits that catch your attention, those that conjure up fond memories, leave for now. If an item screams at you, "Don't part with me!" set it aside. This happened to me with a clay bust my mother had brought home from Africa. Flora, the blind artist, had sculpted one of the children in her village. That "child" has been with me for decades. I'm still mulling over a solution. Perhaps it will go back to my mother, who continues to have strong ties to Kenya. Allow Plenty of TimeIf letting go is difficult for you, allow yourself time to make several passes through the house. In the first pass, de-clutter. Donate or sell as much as you can. Once the items are out of the house, notice how much lighter the energy is. Then make a second pass, or third. You are the ebb. You are the flow. You hold the power to cleanse your space. You decide what physical and emotional baggage you'll carry with you to your new home. Be The TreeToday's pruning makes space for tomorrow's flowering. Like my neighbor's tree, you are more resilient than you thought. Initially, pruning away possessions, representations of your past, may leave you feeling bare; sharp edges exposed. But it may be liberating. Unburdened, you can transplant, invent anew, and sink new roots. My neighbor's tree has lush new growth. It not only survived, it flourished. And so will you. |