Monday, July 13, 2015

The Stuff

In true to me fashion, I did the "Live in New York City" bucket list item a bit out of order. I feel like most people move to New York immediately following college and then after a few years, venture to far off lands of spacious living arrangments and personal vehicles. I decided to forego the plush life of affordable cost of living and in unit washer and dryers to see if the concrete jungle really was what dreams were made of.

One of the difficulties of moving was the downsizing and getting rid of some of my personal "things." I became upset with myself because I was too emotional over selling furniture, household items, appliances, and a car. I sorted my belongings into different categories. The keeps consisted of items that I had used within the past year. The to be sold items were either expensive and I could make money off of them or small household items that I was not utilizing enough to justifying bringing them to New York. Then, there was the donate pile of things that simply were not going to make the venture to New York yet weren't quite valuable enough to justify a sale.

For the most part, I handled this well. I'm a natural purger and while I find sentiment in things, I don't see the need to keep them, but rather hold on them as dear memories. I created a fourth pile of things to be sent to Mom and Dads. I have an entire closet there, mostly empty aside from high school uniform that I can't seem to let go of, and some items, like my precious mole, Goldie, that I made for Mole Day in my high school chemistry class, have been around too long for me to hastily remove them from my life. These belongings dwindled down to one box of mine and a few of Henry's things (his first collars were precious) and were sent to my lovely parents home.

The hardest sells were my washer and dryer and my adorable automobile, Audrey. Washer and dryer? Really? I know. I LOVE doing laundry. I went through a phase where I did laundry every single day. One of my best friends, who was really someone I had only met twice at the time, loves to recount the story of the first time she visited my apartment where I proudly showed off my washer and dryer as if they were to be a featured prize on The Price is Right. I spent weeks stressing over that precious investment before finally placing my order. I went to multiple retailers in Charlotte, read reviews online, and even went as far as calling the manufacturers. I was proud of my first major investment!

Then, theres my Audrey. I truly loved loved loved loved loved, my car. I know this sounds ridiculous. She drove me from Point A to Point B but Audrey was everything I ever wanted in a car. I picked out all of her spunky features myself and waited months for her to arrive from Europe. The day I bought her, was one of the must surreal moments of my life. I remember feeling anxiously excited, happy, yet also completely nauseas because up to that point, the washer and dryer were my most significant purchases I had made in my life. A car was a true, grown up, investment.

As much as I still feel slightly sad about that I had to say bye to, it's quite liberating to be free from the attachment of things. I find that we become too attached to things and inanimate objects when really, we should be investing in other people. I named my car Audrey and considered one of my dearest confidants. While I love the idea of completely liberating myself and trying one of the simple 30 lifestyles where I only live off of 30 possessions, I know I'm not as crunchy as I like to think I am. As difficult as it is to let those defining purchases go (buying a washer, dryer, and car all signify adulthood to me), I am happy for the challenge to break free from a few of my things. If one day, I shall decide I can't live without them, I can go buy new (or slightly used because depreciation is a not so pleasant word) versions and live fine. It served as a reminder of how easily I can become materialistic and I'm grateful for the opportunity to distance myself.

xoxo,

Danielle



No comments:

Post a Comment