Hi Abby, I am one of the elderly solo women you are writing about - there is just me and the dog in this little blue house now. We are merrily jettisoning our accumulated detritus or donating it to various local charities. We are (however) hanging on to a few books and a good stash of tea.
This sounds so freeing! At 76 I still see myself hanging on to what I have, which isn't all that much. Maybe in a few years... Thanks for the inspiration.
It's like being the relative who has to clean out your stuff after you're dead, except you're the relative! Total hassle no matter who's doing it, but it does provide a certain perspective. Like, "Why on earth did she (I) keep all these old 45 records for decades with no way to play them?" Ans. - "I had some vague idea of taking them someplace and maybe having them copied to a CD or something, but never did. And never will." I think we feel obliged to preserve the past, but it can't be preserved. Shedding the stuff mean shedding the pointless obligation. It's freeing, but a bit guilt-inducing, too.
I can so relate to this, after moving into my retirement village 2 years ago at the age of 74. I still have more to give away and am grateful that poor health forced me into downsizing and to do the hard stuff. Though it was hard onj my health, I haven't looked back. The emotional attachments have been dissolving into a sense of liberation from letting go of material possessions--part of a positive process of 'moving out of the state of bondage,' and into Be-ing.
Hi Abby, I am one of the elderly solo women you are writing about - there is just me and the dog in this little blue house now. We are merrily jettisoning our accumulated detritus or donating it to various local charities. We are (however) hanging on to a few books and a good stash of tea.
Good for you, Cate! Books and tea are the essentials.
This sounds so freeing! At 76 I still see myself hanging on to what I have, which isn't all that much. Maybe in a few years... Thanks for the inspiration.
It's like being the relative who has to clean out your stuff after you're dead, except you're the relative! Total hassle no matter who's doing it, but it does provide a certain perspective. Like, "Why on earth did she (I) keep all these old 45 records for decades with no way to play them?" Ans. - "I had some vague idea of taking them someplace and maybe having them copied to a CD or something, but never did. And never will." I think we feel obliged to preserve the past, but it can't be preserved. Shedding the stuff mean shedding the pointless obligation. It's freeing, but a bit guilt-inducing, too.
I can so relate to this, after moving into my retirement village 2 years ago at the age of 74. I still have more to give away and am grateful that poor health forced me into downsizing and to do the hard stuff. Though it was hard onj my health, I haven't looked back. The emotional attachments have been dissolving into a sense of liberation from letting go of material possessions--part of a positive process of 'moving out of the state of bondage,' and into Be-ing.
Sounds like you're headed north. Brave you. Keep us in the loop.