Sorted Affairs

April 7, 2013

Gloomy MN Sunday. My friend asked if I was bored since I requested the dog scoop to collect the piles in the vast yard this morning. A lot of composting dog food lies in the grass given three dogs live here. I haven’t thought about being bored for years now. When I have nothing to do, which is rare these days, I read (generally three books simultaneously) and write, contact my friends around the world and brush out the now shedding dog. The concept of boredom isn’t a predominant issue in my active life. The television is not a distraction since I have not connected to a cable system for many years now. My daughter did not grow up with a large collection of tv stations. We used our television as an avenue of viewing movies we mostly borrowed from the local library.

As I help prepare a close friend’s substantial house for the Market, I recall my last harried cross-country move. For as much as I downsized, sorted, processed through, disengaged from and donated, recycled, threw away packed and re-packed there was still far more excess than I imagined.  I detect  the horrified frustration and suppressed anger when my friend unexpectedly opens the cabinets to hide something from the realtor and discovers a stuffed set of shelves to deal with at a later date. Overwhelm is a constant drag on the heart and soul. The realization that we are collectors, hoarders, savers for the just-in-case-I-need-this-in-the-future mentality is daunting.  

My Sorted Affairs business clients made me more vigilant downsizing in my own home though I collected far too many books and shoes than I needed. I had two empty boxes set by the front door to fill each time I walked through a room which helped in the end yet didn’t take away from the fact that it was painstaking to go through each and every little object and have to make a dead man walking decision about it. The sentimentality around the items, circumstances around the object’s existence, experience around retaining it and what to do with it in the final days stopped me in my tracks more often than not.

Letting go of a home let alone all of the past memories that ride along like the dog who has no clue he is headed for the vet’s office for inoculations versus a play date at the Dog Park brings consternation to the heart. If we do not judge ourselves through a difficult and agonizing process we will be more at peace. Changing, shifting, growing and accepting are painful yet understandably a substantial part of our lives. If we didn’t have those experiences, we may not recognize the undeniable joyful ones.