So where do you begin to disassemble your life?
Luckily, I move. A lot. Actually, I've moved almost every two years since I was 17. Why? Maybe it was because for 17 years I stayed still? But whatever the reason, I love the thrill of change. I love the creation of the new space, but I don't like ending the old one. It is messy (and a lot of work).
So how does one begin? In this case, it has been a somewhat overwhelming job, even though it began nice and easy. In April, I began selling off items I no longer wanted or needed. It was nice getting the money and watching my space clear. I started five months before the planned departure (let's call it D day). Like I said, easy.
In May, it started to get a little harder. I had to start really feeling out my new life. What would I need to live in a small space? What were the needs versus the wants? What would I do with the items I knew I wouldn't sell and couldn't bring with me? I started making lists. Lots of lists. I started researching prices - what I paid and how much I could get. And yes, I continued dreaming.
Late June, I actually got my trailer. I had a good amount of time between deciding, buying and picking up before real action began. Once I got my trailer, I planned a few getaways. Then the focus became what my trailer needed, not what I should be getting rid of. I began a fast and furious love affair with Amazon (don't judge me). There were daily deliveries to my house, countless trials and returns, until finally I had everything I needed for my trailer. Oh no. That meant I had to once again resume getting rid of things. Have you ever thought about how easy it is to buy, but how challenging to purge?
Stuck
Middle of July. Frozen. Overwhelmed. Emotional. I found myself walking into rooms and walking out. Looking at things, then putting them down and crying. I pride myself on my unattachment, organization and ability to think things through, but this was too much. Getting rid of your whole life is not as easy as you may think. It's not a case of just sorting - keep, toss, maybe. It's so much more than that. So I spent many days wandering in and out of rooms and finding lots of other tasks to keep me busy.
One day I was in such a state of overwhelm I couldn't stop moving. I realized I needed help. My first thought was "ask AI". But I have lots of boundaries about what I use AI for, and personal decisions is not one of them. So, I did what I do best. I grabbed a journal, sat down, and started writing. I came up with 5 questions to help calm my mind and my heart.
Does it bring me joy?
Do I need it right now?
Will I need it when I return?
Can I get it again if I get rid of it?
Does it hold any meaning?
That changed everything for me. I went back into that room and the organizational tiger took over. Within days I had gone through each room and sorted into piles of (yes) keep, toss, maybe. But this time it was easy. Purposeful.
The next task was to photograph and list each item on Marketplace. Ugh! Then the daily rigmarole of messages, pickups, cancellations, etc. I had saved the big items for last - bed, sofa, TV, kitchen table. I was planning on waiting until the last few weeks to sell these, but my friend suggested now was the time. She said it would clear my mind and my space. She was right! Soon enough my peaceful space had been turned into camp central. I was sleeping on an air mattress. My office chair was a camp chair and so were my dining room chairs. And TV? Hello iPad.
Moving along
At the beginning of August, I found a storage space to rent at a reasonable price. And thanks to my very careful planning and research it held exactly 30 bins of items that made the cut but would not be joining me on my adventure. The next two weeks was active packing, selling and living in pure CHAOS. Piles everywhere. Furniture nowhere. Cupboards empty. Countertops full. For a Libra who loves her home and showing off her creative organizational skills, it was torture. Pure torture. I didn't even feel human.
Now it's 12 days until D day. Thanks to my friend, my careful planning, and a booming Marketplace business, almost everything is gone. I'm ahead of schedule. My home echoes as there are no soft surfaces to absorb sound. It feels unwelcoming and uncomfortable. But it feels good at the same time. I can only exist in the now because I know the new is coming. I actually think I must spend most days in my head living my new life. I imagine sleeping in my trailer, eating in my trailer, laughing in my trailer. I am living there (in my head anyway) more than I am in my desolate home.
My days are filled with mundane tasks, cleaning, and beautiful dreams. Each day gets me closer to my daughter and my grand-daughter (due in September). Is it worth it? I wouldn't have it any other way.