Purging possessions: a humbling experience

Seattle's Pike Place Market opened the same year
my family moved into our Ballard home, 1907. 

Off and on for years now, I've cleaned out and purged possessions and keepsakes; I've written about that process here before. Reading The Year of Less at the beginning of 2018 ushered in a new level of clearing, which continues today. That said, how on earth does stuff accumulate?  

My house is small. I have very few cupboards and closets and my storage space is extremely limited. For better or worse, the house came with plenty of stuff when I moved in, as it's been in my family now for 112 years. Even though they didn't have a lot in those days, somehow there was still plenty left by the time I landed here, nearly two decades ago. Add to that our active, busy lifestyle with numerous projects and interests makes functioning in our space that much more challenging. 

Our cottage on the hill, circa early 1900s,
with my grandfather and great aunt.

With much of the small stuff finally gone, it's time for the big stuff, which admittedly is harder for a number of unrelated reasons: emotional attachment even though I don't necessarily like these things, nor have a use for... and, nobody wants them. At least, no one in my family. And apparently, few on the Buy Nothing sites want much, either. 

My grandmother's old upright piano was a tough giveaway but finally went to a home with a young boy about 10 years ago. Now I'm left with the antique walnut dining set my aunt bought at a New York auction in the 1940s, which can seat six at its smallest, and has five leaves for many more—great for extended family dinners back in the day when we had a big family. It's beautiful, but frankly never felt like it fit this house. I'm also ready to part with an old Singer sewing machine, one of the first electric models, which belonged to my favorite great aunt. I've never used it. Its cabinet has been a plant stand for as long as I've had it, which is close to 20 years now. I think things are meant to be used, and while I believe in repurposing, I don't think a plant stand is a good repurpose of a cool machine that can be used to make things.  

Both of these are now listed online on numerous buy/sell channels.

I've also listed a handful of small items with no current personal use on my local Buy Nothing site. Why is it that people say they're interested, make arrangements to come get it, and then never show? And they're not just no-shows—they don't let you know nor even respond! 

It takes time to photograph and list these things. Food went quickly, even those items that had long past 'best by' dates. Go figure. I recall having a moving sale when I left Vancouver; the items that sold continually baffled me. The really nice stuff? Nobody cared... 

Our house today, slightly bigger
than before, but not much.

All of this is a humbling experience. I think I'm of the last generation to care about family 'heirlooms' passed down for decades. And right now, it feels like I'm one of few to actually respect people's time. I'm of a mindset that you do what you say you're going to do, or clean it up... which in this case means: let people know if you change your mind, can't get there, or otherwise are no longer interested. 

So while letting go of possessions is at times a humbling experience with some growth opportunities built-in, having fewer possessions is largely freeing. It makes space for something new, something better (and not necessarily a material thing) to show up in your life. 

That part's exciting.  

If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find me here.