After reading a recent post from fellow blogger Broadside, I felt compelled to share a similar event of my own. There was a time in my life when I too was purging for change, however mine was done unconsciously.
Several years ago after my dog passed, I moved into my very first apartment that afforded me a completely different lifestyle compared to a house. After I finished settling and had all my essentials up and running I realized, for the first time in my life, the large pile of items I’d collected over a short amount of years.
I had heaps of extra belongings that, to be honest, were nothing less than themes of completely unnecessary kitchen, bed, bath, office and travel possessions. I had boxes of accumulated items that I simply didn’t need, and worse yet, did not even use; yet I hung onto them fiercely and paid a costly amount to have these boxes moved with me. Although unable, or more truthfully, not wanting to part with my things, these boxes ended up in a storage locker where they remained, rarely touched for more than two years.
I eventually painted my apartment walls a dark olive green, furnished it with dark wood and carried my dark theme into the other rooms. At the time, I found it comforting. One day, into my third apartment year, I had an overwhelming urge to purge. I entered my storage and decided that half must go…and so it did. Some items I sold but most were given away to friends, neighbours or local places in need. A few months later another urge to purge came about and then another, until by year’s end, I found myself contently furnished with very little excess. It most certainly was about time.
At the beginning of 2008 the recession finally hit me. This was when my office job became unnecessary. Instead of sticking around to try my luck at finding another job in my city, I decided to sell everything, keeping only a few boxes of clothes and personal travel items, and head south. Six months later my entire life consisted of several boxes and a one-way ticket.
That was more than three years ago. I often look back on that time in my life and see now how everything happens for a reason. I had no idea why I suddenly began downsizing. Owning too much stuff most certainly never concerned me before. By the time I’d lost my job, I had a manageable pile left that I was able to quickly sell off, making my move that much easier.
To this day I remain unweighted by extra non-necessities. Even though I am, once again, in a house with two dogs this time and I have more room than my old apartment, I no longer have that urge to stockpile as a form of self-preservation. Instead I enjoy my comfortably furnished, yet uncluttered home.
I have moved away from the heavy dark colours of my past and left all my new walls and floors stark white. I have ceiling to floor windows at each end of my tiny main floor, which makes for an incredible air and lightness throughout my entire home. Although my furnishings remain dark, they contrast nicely against their clean, bright backdrop. My house is accented with tall greenery set in colourful pots, special travel items, books I adore and minimal wall art that I appreciate.
There is something extremely freeing about being clutter free. It is a feeling that resembles a type of weightlessness. Perhaps I finally reached a point in my life where owning a pile of extra possessions stopped representing success. Having more than one needs in the form of stuff can be a comfort in many ways, but for the most part, it is a hindrance. I enjoy the lightness of my current life. No stored boxes, no heavily painted walls and no hiding behind material success.
