It’s time to simplify, declutter and just generally refocus. I have become a prisoner of stuff. If I want to ever engage in the travel lifestyle I desire, I’ll have to be able to do with much less.
My mission as a minimalist starts with a good closet cleaning. 1, 2, 3 trips to Goodwill later; bag after bag of some barely worn clothes is gone. It is embarrassing; how did I gather so much crap in just a few short years since the last move?
It’s got to go!
Then, out of the closet, come items that have been in their respective closets the last 3 moves. I move into a new place and immediately fill the closet with things that filled the closet in the previous place. The old neoprene waders, the inflatable air mattress, an old childhood shot gun find themselves listed on Craigslist, Facebook Marketplace and other various on-line market places.
I hit a stride, a purpose, and continue dusting off even more relics of the past in the garage: three bikes, a dog kennel and fishing equipment that has caught nothing but spider webs for years.
The process of letting go becomes cathartic, however, dealing with our fellow humankind in the marketplace can be a bit of a disappointment. Too often when asked to hold an item or even after a selling price is agreed upon the buyer is a no show. Nonetheless, I find the process exhilarating.
Once the higher value items are gone, it’s time for the humbling of the garage sale. The first little piece of my history sells for a $1. Then $.50 it’s almost shameful the things that held importance at one point. With each item gone it becomes like a baptism; a freeing of sins or maybe even an exorcism of demons. Would the collection of excessive amount of useless household trinkets count as Lust or Gluttony? Putting a .25 price tag on them is certainly a blow to Pride.
The more stuff I let go of, the more I want gone. In between the bargain hunting “clients” I start researching routes south to maximize my SuperGraphic stops. I see Nashville, Chattanooga, the space camp in Huntsville, Peachtree City and the little Grand Canyon in Lumpkin, GA. all just waiting for my visit.
I’m engrossed in visions of space suits and peach cobbler only to be interrupted with “Will you take ten cents for this?” Seriously?!! I would give you the darn egg separator before I tried to make change for that quarter, if you didn’t ask. My pride and sense of fairness just won’t allow me to negotiate anything under a quarter.
In fact, after a poor score on a recent sales assessment at work, I have a renewed vigor to maximize every transaction. Painting the vision of perfect egg whites and the value of said egg separator, I relay the story of a perfect meringue I made with the use of this most valuable tool.
I take away an unhealthy amount of satisfaction knowing I won this battle and held firm on .25, and got it! Though I do worry I may have left a little money on the table; it was a damn good meringue!