Ok... I absolutely hate yard/garage sales. I never stop. I hate haggling and I despise it when I spend money on someone else's stuff thinking I'll have a use for it "some day." But when I'm the one who's set out all of my "treasures" for someone else to snatch up at a nano-fraction (I just made that up!) of it's true worth... ok, I still hate them. They are exhausting. And I still hate haggling.
The room in which my computer resides is echo-y tonight. I've moved things out in hopes that someone will take them off my hands. I've realized I've become very un-sentimental with this cross-country move. How is it that these things I've collected and gathered over the last 13+ years has become so meaningless? Is it really that it's all "just stuff" or is this a part of a bigger purging that has to take place for this new journey to succeed?
How is it so easy to shed myself of the attachments I have in this place? Was I ever really attached at all? Surely, I will find it difficult to leave the people and places that have become so familiar...
It's interesting that at this moment I just feel a sense of surreal-ness. Maybe it will hit me somewhere between Albuquerque and Amarillo that I've really left all of this behind. And then, maybe it's just the current loose ends creating this feeling and when they are neatly tied will find me feeling...peaceful.
I think what is truly surreal is that I do feel so sure, so peaceful. It's a little odd, this letting go. I think I kind of like it!
Be blessed!
I think it's funny that you consider yourself unsentimental for washing away material objects that have only really cluttered up the house for so long. Of course these objects have special meaning, but how much intrinsic value do they have? Most of them are special because we've said they're special, that being the case the value doesn't lie in the objects, it lies in the memories.
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