The Second Cull

Once again begins the ritual which is becoming all too familiar.

Last August it was the garage sale, where I watched as accumulated possessions from 21 years of marriage went to new homes. You know, it wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. I look at it now as a redistribution of wealth. We gave away a lot of our stuff. And now it's a wonderful thing to go to friends' places and see bits of my past life in their house. It's not hard any more. It's comforting.

When it comes right down to it, I did keep a lot of stuff for that faroff day when I might have something resembling a home again. My favourite pieces of furniture are at my sister's place until I need them. And I kept about 30 boxes of my favourite things -- mostly books, CDs, my pottery, favourite dishes and kitchen things. And artworks of course.

I brought a carload of stuff down with me to Windsor. Now I'm going through all that stuff again (and the few bits that I've acquired) to see what I really want to keep and what I don't.

Through it all, I am always thinking about stuff .. what we need, what we don't. What we have that enhances our life and how much we have that bogs us down. And even though I enjoy what I have, I do think about how much easier it would be if I could just throw everything in a backpack and get on the plane.

Many times in my life, I have sold just about everything and done that. And just as many times, I've packed up more than I needed and moved it many more miles than it needed to go. Only to look at some of it and ask "why did I move that 2,000 miles"? (I'm travelling a bit lighter now, having sold the baby grand piano that moved all the way from Vancouver to Toronto with us in 1987. Beautiful instrument. I sold it in 1990 after deciding it was too heavy a load to carry. I miss it, but don't miss having to have it moved)

In material terms, I have lost a lot this past year. In moments when I am tempted to yell like Job, "what more do you want from me?" I wonder if I'm headed for the cloister to pray and make cheese or something. I don't think so .. I wouldn't fit in well in a religious setting ... Even the Moonies didn't want me because I was too independent a thinker. They didn't tell me to shut up in indoctrination classes but I could tell they wished I would.

Nonetheless, renunciation has its good points too. Makes it easier to let go. And it's easier to see things clearly without all that clutter.

See you in the cloister.