Downsizing is overrated
It is time to downsize. I never really upsized so downsizing should not be a big deal.
I begin by going to my library thinking surely some books can be culled. It turned out to not be such an easy task.
I have a collection of Jane Yolen books. She is among my favorite authors. A friend and I both collect Jane Yolen books and she has agreed to take my half of the collection. It is another matter all together to get them bundled up and sent east by way of UPS. Maybe I’ll get to it later.
I got frustrated with sorting through books so I loaded up my collection of videos —mostly children’s videos from when I worked exclusively with children or had young nieces and nephews. My youngest niece graduates from high school this year, so that’s a no go.
I don’t work with young children but now confine my practice to adolescents and adults, so no hope for using them there. As for donating them, no one wants them.
Next I find a wine decanter and six matching glasses in the cupboard. I give these to my brother who entertains a lot. This was my second, and it turns out, my final act of downsizing for the time being. I am attached to my stuff, however little or much there is of it.
The table my family gathered around for Thanksgiving, the side board where my mother stored her dishes, and my library all means something to me.
I am attached to these things. It’s how we spend our time. We enjoy the fruits of our labor and being a guardian to the past.
There are worse ways to indulge in life’s past times. I guess I am just not quite ready to give them up.
Turns out, I haven’t upsized as much as I have collected things — videos I no longer watch, more backpacks than there are days in the week, books I will reread before giving them away.