Tag Archives: minimalism

Challenge, Letting Go

Letting Go Challenge: Week Six

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I apologize for the low quality picture. I took it at night because I wanted to make sure I got the stuff that was going to be dropped off at work out the next day, and the other two weren’t taken under the best photographic conditions, either.

28 Things:

  • 1. Storage container for my medicine
  • 2. Magic Wand
  • 3. “I am loved” button
  • 4. Downy packet
  • 5. Bag of cat food
  • 6. Button
  • 7. Arthritis patches
  • 8. Phone Charger
  • 9. Single Knee Hi
  • 10. Mini shampoo
  • 11. Mini conditioner
  • 12. Big bottle of conditioner
  • 13. Book (look, i’ve started!) Zach’s lie
  • 14. Top of a candle
  • 15, 16, and 17: Three broken and/or empty pens
  • 18.  Alarm company security sign
  • 19. Laptop box
  • 20. Purple scarf
  • 21. Alcohol bottle
  • 22. Empty hair conditioner tube — found in a drawer
  • 23. Black pants
  • 24. Blue pants
  • 25. Bra that has never fit
  • 26 and 27. Two pairs of shoes
  • 28. Writer’s Market 2013

One of the things I’ve discovered this week is the joy of seeing reaction of someone when I pass something on. I had the chance to see it twice.

The magic wand was given to me by an incredible lady when I was having a rough time.  She is my purple fairy godmother. I’ve had it for a few years, and, as I was cleaning up, I discovered an old pin that said “I am loved.”  I’m not sure where I got that from.

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Someone I have known for over ten years–one of my first friends when I came to work for my employer–was in the hospital.  We have had a tumultuous history, most of the tumult resulting from the fact that I really, really hated myself and had no idea who I was. Well, I knew what I was: I was venomous, but I couldn’t do anything to stem the flow. It just poured out of me, infecting everything I touched.

I was the opposite of Midas: Instead of turning things to gold, I turned them to shit.

Except for her. The thing was, she kept reaching out again and again and again when I really, really didn’t deserve it.

We would hang out, then not hang out, then hang out again, mostly going our separate ways when I got a transfer and she started attending church.  We would see each other or text once in a while, but mostly it was space.  A lot of it, I think, was because I couldn’t look her in the eye.

But then I found out, quite by accident, that she was in the hospital, in isolation because her condition was so dire.  I waited a few days before contacting her, hoping she’d be out of isolation.  It was within this span that I found my magic wand and the pin.

And so I contacted her and found that she was able to receive company.  The first thing I did after giving her a hug made awkward by her hospital bed, and only a little bit by tension, was to give her the magic wand with the pin stuck in it.

I told her a little about the wand, but I don’t know if I told her that I didn’t need it any more. I guess the assumption is there since I was passing it down.

That was a bright moment: when I found it, I realized that, no matter what circumstances look like, I really didn’t need a magic wand.  Now, the joke is that there is no magic wand that makes everything better; it’s just a representation of good wishes from a lady who wished she could make everything better for me. But the thing is, I really don’t need a magic wand. That wand became my wish I could make everything better for my hospital-bound friend.

I don’t remember what we talked about, mostly catching up, with my attempting to apologize for how shitty I was to her. Back in the day, my “personal space bubble” was nearly infinite, and I didn’t tolerate anyone invading it very well, and made sure everyone knew it.

At the end, she said, “That what’s you do when you love someone. Give them space and hope they come back.”

Anger, I’ve found, doesn’t have to be a way of life.  It’s much better when it isn’t.  And it’s not that I’ve changed–I haven’t changed. I just lost a lot of the garbage that wasn’t me.

Life is really, really good.

Also, the “ice chest” that my Enbrel came in served another purpose. My nephew received a bike for his birthday with a platform on the back.  With a little bungee-cording, it fit perfectly.

So this:

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Became this:

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And life is really, really good.

Challenge, Letting Go

Letting Go Challenge: Week Five (Upping my Game)

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I didn’t realize until after I had posted last week’s toss-out that I had actually made it a month.  Four weeks at 21 items a week.

My house is now 84 items emptier.

For the next four weeks, I’m going to shoot for 28 things a week. That’s just one more item a day.  28 x 4 = 112. Add that to the previous 84, and I’ll have 196–almost 200 things–NOT chaos-ing up my residence.

For this week, it’s:

  • 1. Ripped Dress
  • 2. Nail Polish
  • 3. and 4. Two huge boxes my dog food had been shipped in. I was going to put….something… in them, I know.
  • 5. Egg crate. I had been using it as a lap top cooler, but it’s not really useful if you can’t stand typing on them.
  • 6., 7., 8. Shirts that no longer fit. Donating them to work.
  • 9. Pair of pants, also donated to work.
  • 10. and 11. 2 pairs of shoes.
  • 12. and 13. 2 boxes of unopened tampons (not pictured), also donated to work.
  • 14. Happy Shack tie-dyed tshirt, sadly torn beyond any decent use
  • 15. Torn pink bag
  • 16. Hat that doesn’t even fit to the top of my ears.
  • 17. Chipped coffee cup
  • 18. Generic decongestant meds–expired 2007
  • 19. Facial cleanser–proof I’ll really use anything. It only has about 1/20th of a bottle left, but it doesn’t actually do anything but make you feel cleaner. Using astringent and a cotton pad right after I had washed my face showed that this stuff really didn’t work.
  • 20. Work lanyard (I think I was going to wash it once upon a time? Instead, thrown in my old junk drawer.
  • 21. E-cigarette liquid. Caramel Cappuccino. It WAS a favorite of mine until I spilled it all in my purse and couldn’t stand the smell of it anymore.
  • 22. Rubbermaid lid. (Dog, again.)
  • 23. Dog calendar. I was holding onto it because I was going to turn it into hand crafted paper–something I may or may not get back into in the future.
  • 24. Eye drops for pink eye. It took me over 40 years to get pink eye the first time. I think I’m pretty safe in throwing them away.
  • 25, 26, 27 spools of thread. I swear, these damn things keep multiplying.  I didn’t even count the last ones I found and handed over to my seamstress-at-work.
  • 28. Packet of Downy softener from 2010.

One of the interesting things I’ve discovered this week is that I’m actually looking forward to getting rid of things. I keep a box on my kitchen table that when I come across something, i drop it in there so I’m not doing them at the last minute.

Another thing is that I don’t feel guilty in buying something.  At least so far.

The facial cleansing stuff. Now, for the most part, I’ll buy generic. There are some things, though, that simply aren’t worth the “cost benefit.” Peanut butter, for example. Toilet paper, for another example. This stuff doesn’t work. And yet I kept using it. Cause, stubbornness.

I hate letting go of money. Hate it, hate it.  Actually, that’s not true. I hate spending money. I don’t have a problem letting go of it. (Subtle, but distinct difference, I guess.) But when I had enough of using astringent right after washing my face–the pad looking like I had been working in a coal yard–I tossed it and got some stuff that I’ve used in the past and knew it worked. Sure, it’s more expensive, but perhaps not as expensive as facial cleanser and astringent every single face-washing.

A friend and I were celebrating her acing her statistics class on Friday,  and, as I told her about the Letting Go challenge, and, the face cleaner in particular, she told me about her hair drawer. Hair bands, hair clips, many with the tags still on. “I need to do this,” she said. “But I hate getting rid of stuff.”

She’s a book hoarder like me. We have many things in common.

I told her to start small: maybe 7 things a week. Just one item a day. Not too painful, not too hard.

I told her I have too much stuff. Stuff I love and want but have forgotten because it’s been buried under or packed behind stuff I
don’t want but couldn’t stand to get rid of.

I am so very glad my friend told me about her own minimalist challenge.

This is downright liberating.

The lagniappe for the week is that I cleaned out my refrigerator.  Since I’ve been stocking Sprite for nausea, a LOT of stuff had gotten pushed to the back. Out it went. I didn’t think to count it til I had forgotten how many things I threw out.

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Challenge, Letting Go

Letting Go Challenge: Week Four

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  1. Broken Dustbuster
  2. Zipper pouch that doesn’t zip
  3. Toothbrush from (at least) 2013
  4. Newer toothbrush, broken courtesy of the dog
  5. Contacts that expired in 2011
  6. Cat purse
  7. Antibiotics from 2004
  8. Destroyed Kong
  9. Small brush
  10. Saints shirt
  11. Broken Wind Chime
  12. Broken Dust Pan
  13. A pair of holey panty hose
  14. Broken part of a shower head
  15. Hair gel
  16. Rusty can opener
  17. Mascara from over a year ago
  18. Tiny hair clip with half the teeth broken
  19. Tweezers that no longer tweeze
  20. Smiley faced egg
  21. Peanut butter lid

Three notable things: I found a thumb drive from 2007 which has some of my writing on it, although I haven’t delved into it too deeply since I’ve had it in my car stereo. I’ve found live versions of Tool’s Sober, A Perfect Circle’s Counting Bodies Like Sheep, as well as something that may or may not be Paul McCartney and George Michael.

Also, I have wrapped my first Christmas present. I had bought it last year, maybe? The year before, perhaps? Lost it. Found it. Wrapped it.

And I’ve managed to clean out a drawer in my bedroom. I realize that, as I clear out more room, I’ll be rearranging stuff to make the stuff that I keep even more organized.  I’m actually experiencing anticipation at this.

A side effect of this (or perhaps Enbrel, or a combination of the two) is that housework is no longer loathsome for me. Sure, there are definitely ways I’d rather spend my time, but there’s a sense of sanctification that comes with cleaning that I don’t think I’ve ever experience before. There’s a satisfaction in it.

I am reducing the chaos around me–it’s one of the very few bits o’ chaos I have any control over. And it’s not so much about control, or even accomplishment (although those two feelings are definitely nice), it’s more about preparing the way for better things.

When I bought the house, I dubbed it the Harmony House, but, sadly, it quickly proved to be anything but.  Harmony for me, isn’t perfect stillness; it’s the gentle lapping of the waves on a shore.

This is harmony.  Things, elements, seem to be moving in a way beyond my understanding. I’m just happy to move with them.

So there’s that. 84 things out (plus one pending Christmas present).  I’m loving this.

Challenge, Letting Go

Letting Go Challenge: Week Three

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  • 2 more worn-out floor mats
  • dog-chewed lid
  • dog-chewed bowl
  • dog rope
  • shower shoes
  • open-toed shoes
  • instant coffee
  • pillow
  • fingernail polish remover bottle*
  • another service pin
  • 3 champagne glasses
  • small coffee pot
  • torn up barbecue grill brush
  • phone book–2013 from office
  • arthritis soak (Did NOT work!)
  • purple shirt–melted
  • paper jacket from my first mammogram
  • Mitchie folder

I’m counting the polish remover bottle since I consolidated bottles.  The dog has never played with the rope, preferring by far entire rolls of toilet paper, entire bags of sanitary napkins, and, as it would appear, Rubbermaid containers and lids as well as the occasional really cool pillow.

She also has an occasional hankering for Tesslon Pearls.

She’s better now. I’ve had these things for a while.

The champagne glasses, I’m pretty sure, are from the set I bought for my wedding, two of which were decorated and later unceremoniously stripped of its ribbon and baby’s breath.

That sounds a little more than vaguely violent.

I have no idea neither who Mitchie is nor how I ended up with a folder. The stuff worth trying to give away, I have, and the rest in the trash.

Proof that I really do hang onto everything–the blue and white lump is a paper jacket that I was given for my very first mammogram. My favorite purple shirt–a tough one to let go of–apparently had some sort of plastic fiber in it. It had spots where it had been literally melted–proof, I suppose that I do occasionally cook.

Sixty-three things down, but I can’t yet bring myself to touch my books. I want to get them to a single book case in the living room, with the overflow in the office. But I want to read them all first. I know some of them aren’t worth reading because I’ve already tried. But I still hang onto them, because I’m just not ready to go there.

So I make excuses, and find other things to get rid of.

Challenge, Letting Go

Letting Go Challenge: Week Two

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This week’s 21 things:

  • very dirty, worn out door mat
  • terra cotta owl
  • Glen Haven ear cleanser
  • Flea and Tick spray
  • Cat Calmant
  • Dermacare Anti-Itch Spray
  • Hairball Remedy
  • Extreme Groom Waterless Foam shampoo
  • Chinese take out dish (cracked, courtesy of the dog)
  • Rubbermaid storage piece and lid (chewed, courtesy of the dog)
  • 9 small spools of thread (where do they keep coming from?)
  • Peanut butter jar lid (I don’t even want to know)

This week was a trip back in time, and one I’m surprisingly grateful for.

All of the cat items (listed by brand in case I want to find them again) were from a time I had been reunited with my cats after Hurricane Katrina. (So, the stuff is at least NINE years old!)

I was very grateful that I had someone far away to take them in when I couldn’t. I was living in a fish camp on the river at the time, not exactly the driest place to be that summer, but it was drowned in mud and dead fish and, to this day, has yet to be rebuilt.

It has, however, been cleaned and gutted.  So, no dead fish smell.

I was grateful that someone had taken them in.  He had offered to take me in, too, but I was too stubborn, too tied to the Mississippi Gulf Coast and my family to ever truly consider leaving.

They had been staying in Florida, vacationing as I called it, while we dealt with the aftermath.

The hurricane itself was a breeze (ha!), I actually slept through the majority of it, but the aftermath was something entirely different. That was a rough time for me; I was living in a camper far too tight for cats who couldn’t stand each other, my alpha having already been returned to me due to her inability to play well with others. She’s never really played well with others.

Maybe that’s why I’m writing a book about her.

I was not so grateful, however, when I saw what shape they were in when they returned.

All of these products were either purchased by the Keeper of the Cats during their stay, or by me to help them recuperate after their stay.

It was a long road to recovery for all of us. It took them a long time get healthy again, and it took me a long time to get my anger within healthy parameters again.

In the end, I realized that he did the best that he could given the circumstances, and he did a hell of a lot more than I was able to, given the circumstances. Once I realized this, this key fact: that he, for all of his attributes and actions, character and circumstances, honestly did the best that he could do, there was something that was similar to–but not quite–forgiveness that sparked within me.

I had realized there was nothing to forgive despite how things may have appeared.

When that happened, I could forgive myself for subjecting them to such tribulation: there was nothing to forgive. I, too, had done the best that I could have done given my attributes and actions, character and circumstances.

There was nothing to forgive despite how things may have appeared.

And I’m not saying that I’d make the same choice today that I made back then. I have, after all, learned a LOT about emergency preparedness since Katrina.  It’s just that the choice I made was the best one I could have made at the time.

And that is glorious. No blame. No shame. It just was.

It probably was one of the most powerful lessons on forgiveness I’ve ever had.

A side note: I had originally included my Misfit  (so very NOT recommended), but switched it out for another item when I found out I may be able to get my money back on it.

The owl I had bought for someone’s birthday at least 2 years ago. I’ll be gifting it this week.

Forty-two things gone. The thread (all of it) re-homed with a sewing-addicted coworker, the rest of it trashed or re-homed.

I have to say that I am just a little bit impressed with myself.

I had a little lagniappe for the week: In cleaning out my junk drawer, I switched drawers, so that my “junk” drawer is a much smaller one, and what had previously been the junk drawer now holds dish towels. The result of this is that I have a little more room in my pantry, since it was holding the dish-towel overflow.

What a magnificent thing.

Challenge, Letting Go

Letting Go Challenge: Week One

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I have way too much stuff. Stuff I don’t use, stuff I hold onto “just in case,” stuff taking up room in my home and in my life that I simply don’t have the inclination to allow any more.

Perhaps it was the change in weather (it actually feels like Fall in October in South Mississippi–this is a new experience for me), perhaps it is the  post-RA feeling of purpose and identity and organization I’ve found, perhaps it’s just being done with the old. Whatever it was, I’m grateful for it.

I have too much stuff.

I’ve mentioned that a friend is doing a “Min Challenge” (as in minimalism) via Instagram, a 30 day challenge that asks that she rid her house of 1 thing on the first day, 2 things on the second day, and so forth, until the 30th day of the month.

That’s waaaay too ambitious for me.  So I modified it.

My goal is to get rid of 21 things a week, which breaks down to 3 items per day.  I figure this is doable. By setting my target for the week rather than the month, I’m able to cover for days I can’t do much of anything.

So here goes:

For week One, I rid myself of a shirt and 2 pairs of shoes (not pictured, since I’ve already given them away) and these items:

  • a purse I won’t ever use
  • a stuffed cell phone
  • a pair of Mardi Gras beads
  • a 10 year service pin
  • 5 small spools of thread
  • dog collar
  • pair of shoes
  • 6 old phone books
  • flash light that doesn’t work (Yes, I tried new batteries)

The recyclable stuff will go out for recycling; the toy stuff will go to my niece and/or nephew. The stuff I can give away, I will, and the stuff I can’t, I’ll trash.

Some observations:

  • I had phone books from 2010. Crimey.
  • In the process, I’ve already found a couple of things that  I’m experiencing resistance to getting rid of. I put them aside and will deal with them later–I have plenty of stuff that can come before it. I asked myself, “Why am I holding onto it?” but I didn’t have an answer.
  • I had an interesting reaction to finding my Years of Service pin. Because I’m still working there, I’ll table that subject for another time.
  • I managed to get my overflowing “junk drawer” cleaned out. A HUGE accomplishment. It’ll be an even bigger accomplishment when I find homes for the stuff that isn’t actually junk.

So that’s it for this week. Anyone up for doing this challenge with me?