Downsizing is a necessary step on the way to full-timing. We will be living in a home of just 400 square feet – one sixth the size of our current 2400 sf home. Making this major lifestyle change is not easy and involves some pain. And it requires time. We are well on our way to our goal, but still have much work to do over the next four months before we make that leap from house to RV. But I have learned a few things about the process and want to take a moment to reflect on it.
Everyone downsizes eventually. Some wait until they are dead and let others do it for them. Most do it while still living, either voluntarily or of necessity. My mother is typical. She lived for 50 years in a house that was smaller than my current home and, like any long-term resident, accumulated a lot of “stuff” (as George Carlin so eloquently labeled it). When she made the move to a one-bedroom senior housing apartment a decade back she was rather traumatized by the necessity of discarding things that, though unused, had been familiar companions for so long. The second set of china. The desk that served as storage for papers no longer needed. The children’s books read to children long gone. He new apartment had no room for any of this. And, truth be told, she had no use for any of it either. So why the trauma?
I think every possession has its own gravitational field. It doesn’t have to be important to tug at us. Every item has some small, intangible but real connection to our life history. Different people respond differently to this gravitational tug. Some, like me, barely feel it for most of our possessions (except for a small number of items that are truly significant) – we are like meteors whose trajectory is altered when passing a celestial object, but we continue on our way. Others, like Jett, feel the tug of a larger number of things – she has moved a dozen boxes from home to home over the years, never opening the boxes, but still feeling connected to the hidden contents. She is a planet that is captivated by the gravity of her possessions but keeps her distance. Hoarders, at the extreme, are completely captivated by the gravitational pull and are inescapably drawn inward in a death spiral. To hoarders. possessions form a black hole from which there is no escape.
Downsizing is an exercise in evaluating what is important to us. It is a triage process: take, store or discard. In my mother’s case – and I think this is typical – she kept less than a third, stored less than a third and discarded (via donation or trash) the rest. She is about to undergo a second downsizing. This will be less severe as she will be moving from a senior housing apartment to a slightly smaller assisted living apartment. But the new apartment will have no kitchen, so all those cooking items will be either donated or discarded. And she is resisting strongly, so the trauma is still there.
Our downsizing seems to be pretty typical, too, though with a smaller portion going into the “keep” pile – we have a limit of 2,500 lbs that we can put into the RV, plus a few things that will go in the truck – golf clubs, dog food and gear, tools and perhaps a bicycle. We will store memorabilia and a few pieces of furniture in our house’s attic. Some items may be left in the house for use by the renter and may be still in our possession if and when we return. But a truly awesome pile of stuff will be donated (or sold) and a shocking amount will be discarded.
We just had the first of what we expect will be two yard sales. It was a lot of work with little gain. Jett worked her butt off preparing and organizing it all and it ended up netting only about $500. That is probably less than minimum wage for Jett’s efforts. But the result didn’t disappoint me as I had low expectations for the monetary gain. I think the true value of a yard sale is the satisfaction of seeing some of your good stuff be valued (or undervalued) by some other person. There is little satisfaction in tossing something in the trash (except for items like that 1910 Fruit Gum Company LP that you bought before your brain was fully formed), but there is an inexplicable glow in having someone pay a quarter for it.
Of course there are a few items that are unexpectedly rejected. A table with a built-in lamp that graced my office for years has sat on our sidewalk for three days now with a “free” sign on it. It is somewhat dismaying that an item that we liked enough to pay good money for is of no interest to others at any price.
I was surprised by the number of yard sale items that I didn’t recognize. That set of fine lead crystal glasses, for example. Apparently Jett valued them so highly that they never appeared on our dining room table – too good to be used for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinners with family. Maybe if Reba McIntyre had come to visit she would have brought them out. I will never know.
And all the clothes that I never saw her wear. Why do women keep clothes they don’t wear? I will never understand that.
Jett’s relatives have taken a bunch of stuff. Some of the furniture is going to Jett’s sister’s summer cottage in NH. A truckload of other stuff has gone to her nieces. A huge truckload of stuff was taken yesterday by the Salvation Army.
Why does the house still look full?
I have to finish the cleanup of the basement tomorrow. This includes going through my very messy work area. I have to decide which of those expensive tools I want to store. And I have to organize that pile of hardware. Ugh.
There is no question that downsizing is a LOT of work. It can be traumatizing and emotional. But it can also be liberating. I feel lighter now that so much stuff has gone.
I guess I am feeling less of that gravitational pull.