There wasn’t any cooking today. Today was a day of purging and expulsion. Of cleaning and scouring. Of cleansing.
Ever since I saw my first episode of Tiny House Nation, I’ve been obsessed with minimizing my life (and building a tiny house). Around the same time Beena expressed an interest in having a yard sale. Perfect timing. I started going through drawers, closets and attics. If it had never been used or if there were duplicates of any one thing, it went into a box. If it didn’t fit AT THIS TIME or, being realistic, I was never planning on fixing or making it, it went into a box. If I felt I could reasonably live without it, it went into a box.
I was ruthless. Out went six pairs of nail clippers. Out went eight tote bags. Out went a full set of Margarita glasses. I practically halved my personal stuff and gained tons of space in my closets and drawers. It felt wonderful.
Unfortunately, the weather the past several weeks prevented us from having that yard sale. Now all this stuff is sitting in my basement, waiting for the spring. I got depressed every time I went into the basement, which has its own special kind of crap crammed in. Now it had a multitude of boxes to add to the messy mix.
The girls pitched in today and helped me pack and stack the boxes in a tidy corner of the basement. They cleaned out the game cabinet and convinced me to get rid of some stuff I was hanging on to “just in case”. Even though the crap was still in the house, it was neat and boxed up, ready to be sold. It felt good.
I dropped a bag off at the church- a ton of baskets for the shut-ins, some angels my mom made years ago and some flower pins we once sold on Mother’s Day as well as floor plans of the various projects I worked on for the parsonage, the church office and the church itself. Giving these little things away was more therapeutic than culling the clothes from my closet. Knowing my time with this church has completed left me feeling light and clear-headed. The anger has dissipated and I’m ready to merge onto the next spiritual highway and see where that takes me.
Seeing me run up and down two flights of stairs all day must have made MR take pity on me because he offered to take me out for dinner. And honestly, that burger didn’t taste half as good as some of the things I cooked this week.
(Why would anyone have seven pairs of nail clippers?)