Stephanie - What an important meditation on the weight of accumulation and the sacred practice of letting go. You touch on something human in all of us: the way our things become extensions of memory, identity and sometimes even protection. I love your question, Will what I make be good enough? and how it hits on scarcity that so often drives us to hold on, just in case.
What you’ve raised is beyond clutter; it’s about clarity. It’s about the courage to distinguish what truly nourishes the soul from what once served a purpose but now asks to be released. That shell, the Christmas platters, even the teapot, these aren’t just objects. They’re waypoints in a life well lived. And yet, as you so eloquently write, they’re not you. The invitation to come home to your essential self, the self that loves, weeps and wonders, this is the gift you give to all of us reading.
Thank you for reminding us that liberation often begins in relation to one thing and one question at a time.
What a beautiful comment, Bronce. Thank you. These words especially spoke to me: "It’s about the courage to distinguish what truly nourishes the soul from what once served a purpose but now asks to be released." This process of purging, sorting, letting go -- I'm finding peace in it. It feels good to release some of those waypoints in this life.
May your day be unencumbered by things, and filled with joyous serendipity. Big hugs from your friend and fan, stephanie
Swedish death traditions include "döstädning," or "death cleaning," a practice of decluttering and organizing one's possessions before death to ease the burden on loved ones. AI gave me this because I couldn’t remember the word but I found it after my parents died and my bratty little sister, now in her fifties but still consumed by with childhood resentment, swooped in, took control of the stuff, refused to collaborate and punished those of us who didn’t acknowledge her self-appointed role. I didn’t realize grown adults could be that way but apparently it’s not uncommon. I like the Swedish way better but in the end, it’s only stuff.
Right, in the end, it's only stuff. This Swedish death tradition is a good model for what we all could do -- why leave that burden to your family. Much to think about here. Thank you and sending you peace and goodwill.
I'd never heard about Death Cleaning until the comments on this post. It sounds so sane and I want to learn more. A couple of people here mentioned a book-- just what I need right now, another book -- but I really do think this is a good thing to learn about.
I had the same experience with a sister after our mom died. We played a little choosing game. The four kids each took turns selecting something from the house. We had categories of really big stuff like her car and valuable pieces of Art to sets of stuff like dishes, then little stuff. No one was allowed to fuss about anything. There wasn't time. What a relief when we were all done. But still my sister whined after wards. People handle grief differently. There's often One in Every Family like our sisters!🙄
What a beautifully written glimpse into discovering what defines us as humans and, more importantly, what does not. In going through a similar process myself, I am so appreciative of your insight and perspective.
We retired into a 27 ft trailer and pickup truck, so if it didn’t fit, or have multipurpose, it didn’t make the cut. We took some photo albums, and a few pieces of art work to a family member for storage, and unloaded everything else. I gave my kitchen stuff to a woman’s shelter that was helping women get back on their feet. My husband’s flying tying stuff went to a group working with veterans with PTSD. It’s not too hard to find groups like that. Probably to most cathartic was taking all the cards and letters we had sent/ given each other over 30 years, and burning them in a campfire one of our first nights on the road. Can’t say that we have ever regretted the downsizing, it was very freeing
Now that we are back to “sticks and bricks” we have a “one in one out rule”
Wow, Mary, this is a wonderful story. A simple life, rich in what matters instead of things. You are my new inspiration as I go through this process: "one in, one out rule." Thank you.
I am very guilty of holding on to things and no matter the fact I know they are things, this whole process matches my personality to a T. I'm in the same stage as all of you and it needs to get done. My parents were wonderful and my memories are wonderful. Then on top of that, I love collecting and and my daughters stuff from growing up is still here along with my grandchildren treasures. They come and check things out every time they come, even now as high school teens. They talk about their big wheels and riding them all over the lower lever of our home. ( I still have them) My daughter gets her Star Wars villiage toys out. So I guess maybe I still need to keep some things. I have a soft heart and when I think of past times, I miss my parents and cry.
Things can be powerful representations of feelings and cherished past times. It's the sentimental part of purging where I get tripped up and want to hold on -- as you illustrate with the things/memories from children and grandchildren. Still, going through this process is, for me, a great teaching in what matters most. And I agree, I think culling down is a fairly universal theme as we age.
And the kids don't want our stuff. We have two kids, three floors full of stuff. We asked both of them what they might want - both wanted the sugar bowl. That was all. We did give some books yesterday to our grandson at university. That was a good feeling.
Well, my kids are VERY different. Their spouses are even more different. Yet all we got asked for was the one (indivisible) sugar bowl. Could change when we are dead and gone, of course, but I suspect things will go wherever things go...
Oh Ann, I feel there could be a whole book about an indivisible sugar bowl. "A small useful reminder of one's childhood" sounds very special to this adult child.
A great idea, Melanie. A whole book about a much wanted sugar bowl. I can see it as an unexpected success with the great public out there. A metaphor for our times!
Stephanie , this is a beautiful reflection on stuff. It seems for the past three years I’ve been sorting through stuff. Much of it not my own: equipment, therapeutic tools, arts, and crafts from two schools I created for people with disabilities like my daughters.
It’s been slow as with the letting go, I’m also letting go of my prayer that they would come to a level of functioning to be able to use all of these things.
So I’ve been negotiating with items for many years, “just in case.“
Recently, I’ve cleared out many things and it’s a good feeling to have more space. Im not ready to release the hyperbaric oxygen chamber yet, not sure why. You never know when you’re gonna need some extra oxygen.
Always happy to read your musings.
Kind and generous - a true expression of you with or without the stuff.
Oh that negotiation with things we want to let go of -- just in case! Things can trigger so much memory, so much met and unmet expectation. What could have been, what might not ever be, and what moved us and grew us. Sorting through things and giving stuff away is a deeper more nuanced emotional process than I ever thought it would be. May you always have the space around you to spread your wings and soar as you do. You and all of your girls are in my heart, and I'm so grateful to have found you.
This so hits home! The image of my cousin - the only relative who lives nearby - having to clear out the apartment is unbearable. I whittle away, whittle away. I'm donating, selling, throwing out and taking the occasional photo of things I want to remember but don't need to keep. I may never get done, but at least I know that I've tried.
Susan, what a creative idea to take a picture of the things you want to remember but don't need to keep. I'm going to use that. I figure we'll get a done as we can, and it will be enough. Big hugs, my friend.
Downsizing your home forces you to look at what you have. We recently moved from a large family home to a smaller home with a very small garden. We love it! Close to public transport and galleries. We walk a lot more, we are planning to sell a car and have only the one…we don’t use our car much anymore. We have reduced our possessions. We feel lighter, freer and happier. We consume with more conscious and have halved our energy bills. We don’t need stuff to be happy…what we have discovered is happiness through engaging in and contributing to our new and welcoming community in a suburb that suits our current needs.
What a great story! I'm slowly finding the joy in letting go of things and turning my focus to just what you have named here -- contributing to community. Thank you for sharing your experience with us.
Gorgeous and perfect, Stephanie! I have loved reaching this time of life when I embrace the words "simple' and "sacred" and am able to let go of things and problems with trust.
Simple and Sacred are perfect words to describe what I aspire to. And trust, well that's one that always seems to need a little work in my life. Big hugs, Mary Jo and Write on . . .
It took me 6 months of days off and vacation days to take apart the parent’s home they occupied x50+ yrs. My mother had survived the Depression and never threw as much as a mayonnaise jar away as that generation invented recycling, repurposing, reusing. Having had nothing in the desperate years, she loved nice things. Now, I find myself looking down the short tunnel of how long do I have to live in this home of +40 yrs…. where ironically, I brought many bits from the parental home as I could not bear to trash them. I fervently do not want my children to have the burden on their packed lives to have to deal with my acquisitions so I make lists. BOOKS..I have 7 bookcases in this house, one of which is just cookbooks… how relevant is that when young people IF they do cook look up a quick recipe on the internet? Marie Kondo suggests keeping only items that spark joy. My old things around me generate the energies of those who loved them before me. They anchor me. They have their own stories. Will I bother ever to use my wedding china again as in widowhood, I don’t entertain anymore but they are so beautiful…and the next generation has no time for anything that requires handwashing as they live their lives had a hectic pace.
Wow, Trish. There's so much here. What is of value to us may not be to the next generation. The books are the hardest part for me. I love my books, reading and referring to. . . and I fear books are becoming a thing of the past as fewer people read now. I remember the joy of sitting in bed at night, reading cookbooks and thinking of the dishes I could make. Not sure that would be of interest to a younger generation, who as you say can find that next great recipe on the Internet. Here's to the beauty of the past. May it bless us with sweet memories.
At 81, I have reached a point when I have reduced the stuff down to what I won't replace. It has been easier by donating to a cancer survivor thrift and a local church. That said, I still have too many books. IMHO, those represent who I am.
Afraid I'm guilty of hanging on to my books too . . . maybe one day, but right now, they bring me joy, and there are so many of them that I refer to rom time to time. Thank you for being here.
I’m in a different headspace, on a different path, than most. My beloved husband died 2 years ago June13. Except for a shrine and memorial space, everything stayed the same. Until it didn’t. My little dining room became a paean to world travel, which I have never done. My kitchen is a riot of artificial sunflowers and fat hovering bees. My living room became a vintage clock shop, my bedroom is an explosion of fat wooden arrows pointing every which way. This enthusiasm has a purpose, I think. I am acknowledging loss, while collecting things I love in place of a tender love that’s gone. Eventually, I will move on. I think. Perhaps!
Seems to me that you found a very creative and soulful way of expressing and dealing with grief. I'd say you are doing this just right. Biggest of hugs.
You appear to have found that creativity is it's own balm and moves one forward when it seems the world has stopped spinning. I think you're awesome. Big hugs.
This really sparked a lot of memories of times when it seemed the walls were collapsing on me under the weight of all the stuff. For years, I've followed van dwellers on YouTube, fascinated by how they pare down to their idea of essentials. Of course, over time, they too gather and feather their mobile nests. The van is traded in on a trailer or Class C RV. Then they get a truck with camper for those times they want to return to "small," leaving the big vehicle on the "home base property" they just purchased. It's really kind of funny watching the evolution ... or is it devolution? Humans are so fascinating. The gods must laugh constantly.
Sue, I'm with you. I do think we make the gods laugh . . .constantly! That's a really interesting story about small to a little larger to a little larger still and then back again. Is is just in our nature to gather and cling to things?
Yeah, I think we humans like to accumulate stuff. I didn't realize why until my husband explained that material things are a symbol of wealth, prosperity, and accomplishment. This epiphany came when a couple we knew were moving a long distance and had to rid themselves of their meager, newlywed treasurers. He didn't want to give up his movie disk player (this was in 1983). She was a musician so didn't want to ditch the guitar. (does this remind you of an O. Henry story, Gift of the Magi?) My husband told me that the man held that disk player as a sign that he was making progress in providing a living for his family and this was a special gift to himself for his success. I think that's true, but then over the years we reward ourselves with lots and lots of symbols of our success. Then we wonder why we don't have any money for retirement. DUH!
As a child-free person, I have no one to leave my stuff to - a couple of nieces will get some of my jewelry, but everything else...will have to be donated or removed one day. My mom - who is 80 - has been going through her drawers, cupboards and closets and getting rid of things or selling them (neighbourhood garage sales) or donating them to charity, and I am SO grateful to her for that. We talk about eventual downsizing for her (she is in a 2-bedroom home), but I'm encouraging her to age in place, surrounded by only her favourite things.
As for me now...I resell and give away my clothes, which is my justification for continuing to buy them (secondhand, of course!). When I hit retirement age (the next few years), I will divest myself of a good chunk of "office clothes" and my main jewelry collection will be dispersed to the nieces and younger generation of "Chosen Family" (my friends' kids).
Because I read your Substack, I know that you are recycling and repurposing all of the time -- and by far you are the coolest, most creative fashionista I've ever encountered.
I may have to hold a garage sale. Our neighborhood does a yearly one, and I've never participated, but because I'm engaged in a major purge, now might be the right time. Thanks for the idea. Sending you love, hugs and appreciation.
Do it! There is a huge satisfaction in connecting your things to new homes. Mom sold off all of her gardening equipment, including some very (originally) pricy things, to a young couple who had just started a business. She felt so good, knowing that she was helping them. Big hugs to you, Stephanie. <3
I’ve reached the point where I don’t want to buy any more stuff. Happily books don’t qualify as ‘stuff’. Nor do plants and flowers.
LOL -- I agree, books are exempt from the too much stuff category. May we all walk this earth a little lighter. Big hugs.
Absolutely not! :)
Umm…that’s what I tell myself too….myself too!!!
Stephanie - What an important meditation on the weight of accumulation and the sacred practice of letting go. You touch on something human in all of us: the way our things become extensions of memory, identity and sometimes even protection. I love your question, Will what I make be good enough? and how it hits on scarcity that so often drives us to hold on, just in case.
What you’ve raised is beyond clutter; it’s about clarity. It’s about the courage to distinguish what truly nourishes the soul from what once served a purpose but now asks to be released. That shell, the Christmas platters, even the teapot, these aren’t just objects. They’re waypoints in a life well lived. And yet, as you so eloquently write, they’re not you. The invitation to come home to your essential self, the self that loves, weeps and wonders, this is the gift you give to all of us reading.
Thank you for reminding us that liberation often begins in relation to one thing and one question at a time.
What a beautiful comment, Bronce. Thank you. These words especially spoke to me: "It’s about the courage to distinguish what truly nourishes the soul from what once served a purpose but now asks to be released." This process of purging, sorting, letting go -- I'm finding peace in it. It feels good to release some of those waypoints in this life.
May your day be unencumbered by things, and filled with joyous serendipity. Big hugs from your friend and fan, stephanie
"Waypoints in a life well lived". So well put.
Thank you Melanie Williams de Amaya! Given your chosen profession, I think you've just made my day :))
And let me tell you, with all of this writing uncertainty, that was not an easy maneuver to pull off.
Swedish death traditions include "döstädning," or "death cleaning," a practice of decluttering and organizing one's possessions before death to ease the burden on loved ones. AI gave me this because I couldn’t remember the word but I found it after my parents died and my bratty little sister, now in her fifties but still consumed by with childhood resentment, swooped in, took control of the stuff, refused to collaborate and punished those of us who didn’t acknowledge her self-appointed role. I didn’t realize grown adults could be that way but apparently it’s not uncommon. I like the Swedish way better but in the end, it’s only stuff.
Right, in the end, it's only stuff. This Swedish death tradition is a good model for what we all could do -- why leave that burden to your family. Much to think about here. Thank you and sending you peace and goodwill.
As an 80 year old Swede, I have been Death Cleaning for over five years. I never let family leave my home without taking something. Feels so good!
I'd never heard about Death Cleaning until the comments on this post. It sounds so sane and I want to learn more. A couple of people here mentioned a book-- just what I need right now, another book -- but I really do think this is a good thing to learn about.
You can borrow the book for the library and then it goes away without a decision on your part. 🙂
Great perspective, Amy. Thank you.
I had the same experience with a sister after our mom died. We played a little choosing game. The four kids each took turns selecting something from the house. We had categories of really big stuff like her car and valuable pieces of Art to sets of stuff like dishes, then little stuff. No one was allowed to fuss about anything. There wasn't time. What a relief when we were all done. But still my sister whined after wards. People handle grief differently. There's often One in Every Family like our sisters!🙄
What a beautifully written glimpse into discovering what defines us as humans and, more importantly, what does not. In going through a similar process myself, I am so appreciative of your insight and perspective.
LJ, I've noticed that a lot friends f are going through this process too. It's like an unveiling of self-knowledge. Thanks for being here.
We retired into a 27 ft trailer and pickup truck, so if it didn’t fit, or have multipurpose, it didn’t make the cut. We took some photo albums, and a few pieces of art work to a family member for storage, and unloaded everything else. I gave my kitchen stuff to a woman’s shelter that was helping women get back on their feet. My husband’s flying tying stuff went to a group working with veterans with PTSD. It’s not too hard to find groups like that. Probably to most cathartic was taking all the cards and letters we had sent/ given each other over 30 years, and burning them in a campfire one of our first nights on the road. Can’t say that we have ever regretted the downsizing, it was very freeing
Now that we are back to “sticks and bricks” we have a “one in one out rule”
Wow, Mary, this is a wonderful story. A simple life, rich in what matters instead of things. You are my new inspiration as I go through this process: "one in, one out rule." Thank you.
I am very guilty of holding on to things and no matter the fact I know they are things, this whole process matches my personality to a T. I'm in the same stage as all of you and it needs to get done. My parents were wonderful and my memories are wonderful. Then on top of that, I love collecting and and my daughters stuff from growing up is still here along with my grandchildren treasures. They come and check things out every time they come, even now as high school teens. They talk about their big wheels and riding them all over the lower lever of our home. ( I still have them) My daughter gets her Star Wars villiage toys out. So I guess maybe I still need to keep some things. I have a soft heart and when I think of past times, I miss my parents and cry.
Things can be powerful representations of feelings and cherished past times. It's the sentimental part of purging where I get tripped up and want to hold on -- as you illustrate with the things/memories from children and grandchildren. Still, going through this process is, for me, a great teaching in what matters most. And I agree, I think culling down is a fairly universal theme as we age.
Thank you remember the camera!:)
The camera is such a great idea. Big hugs.
And the kids don't want our stuff. We have two kids, three floors full of stuff. We asked both of them what they might want - both wanted the sugar bowl. That was all. We did give some books yesterday to our grandson at university. That was a good feeling.
No matter how many times I hear it, I suppose it's my own ego self that can't imagine the younger generation not wanting my stuff! LOL.
Well, my kids are VERY different. Their spouses are even more different. Yet all we got asked for was the one (indivisible) sugar bowl. Could change when we are dead and gone, of course, but I suspect things will go wherever things go...
Ann, that must be one very special sugar bowl!
No, it's just a small useful reminder of their childhoods. Not very special at all.
Oh Ann, I feel there could be a whole book about an indivisible sugar bowl. "A small useful reminder of one's childhood" sounds very special to this adult child.
A great idea, Melanie. A whole book about a much wanted sugar bowl. I can see it as an unexpected success with the great public out there. A metaphor for our times!
Kids do not want our stuff seems to be true with everyone I speak with about de-cluttering.
...although there are always unique exceptions, it does seem to be a main commonality.
Stephanie , this is a beautiful reflection on stuff. It seems for the past three years I’ve been sorting through stuff. Much of it not my own: equipment, therapeutic tools, arts, and crafts from two schools I created for people with disabilities like my daughters.
It’s been slow as with the letting go, I’m also letting go of my prayer that they would come to a level of functioning to be able to use all of these things.
So I’ve been negotiating with items for many years, “just in case.“
Recently, I’ve cleared out many things and it’s a good feeling to have more space. Im not ready to release the hyperbaric oxygen chamber yet, not sure why. You never know when you’re gonna need some extra oxygen.
Always happy to read your musings.
Kind and generous - a true expression of you with or without the stuff.
Hugs sister
💚🌹💚
Oh that negotiation with things we want to let go of -- just in case! Things can trigger so much memory, so much met and unmet expectation. What could have been, what might not ever be, and what moved us and grew us. Sorting through things and giving stuff away is a deeper more nuanced emotional process than I ever thought it would be. May you always have the space around you to spread your wings and soar as you do. You and all of your girls are in my heart, and I'm so grateful to have found you.
Oh yes! Thank you love
This so hits home! The image of my cousin - the only relative who lives nearby - having to clear out the apartment is unbearable. I whittle away, whittle away. I'm donating, selling, throwing out and taking the occasional photo of things I want to remember but don't need to keep. I may never get done, but at least I know that I've tried.
Susan, what a creative idea to take a picture of the things you want to remember but don't need to keep. I'm going to use that. I figure we'll get a done as we can, and it will be enough. Big hugs, my friend.
Downsizing your home forces you to look at what you have. We recently moved from a large family home to a smaller home with a very small garden. We love it! Close to public transport and galleries. We walk a lot more, we are planning to sell a car and have only the one…we don’t use our car much anymore. We have reduced our possessions. We feel lighter, freer and happier. We consume with more conscious and have halved our energy bills. We don’t need stuff to be happy…what we have discovered is happiness through engaging in and contributing to our new and welcoming community in a suburb that suits our current needs.
What a great story! I'm slowly finding the joy in letting go of things and turning my focus to just what you have named here -- contributing to community. Thank you for sharing your experience with us.
Gorgeous and perfect, Stephanie! I have loved reaching this time of life when I embrace the words "simple' and "sacred" and am able to let go of things and problems with trust.
Simple and Sacred are perfect words to describe what I aspire to. And trust, well that's one that always seems to need a little work in my life. Big hugs, Mary Jo and Write on . . .
It took me 6 months of days off and vacation days to take apart the parent’s home they occupied x50+ yrs. My mother had survived the Depression and never threw as much as a mayonnaise jar away as that generation invented recycling, repurposing, reusing. Having had nothing in the desperate years, she loved nice things. Now, I find myself looking down the short tunnel of how long do I have to live in this home of +40 yrs…. where ironically, I brought many bits from the parental home as I could not bear to trash them. I fervently do not want my children to have the burden on their packed lives to have to deal with my acquisitions so I make lists. BOOKS..I have 7 bookcases in this house, one of which is just cookbooks… how relevant is that when young people IF they do cook look up a quick recipe on the internet? Marie Kondo suggests keeping only items that spark joy. My old things around me generate the energies of those who loved them before me. They anchor me. They have their own stories. Will I bother ever to use my wedding china again as in widowhood, I don’t entertain anymore but they are so beautiful…and the next generation has no time for anything that requires handwashing as they live their lives had a hectic pace.
Sigh.
Wow, Trish. There's so much here. What is of value to us may not be to the next generation. The books are the hardest part for me. I love my books, reading and referring to. . . and I fear books are becoming a thing of the past as fewer people read now. I remember the joy of sitting in bed at night, reading cookbooks and thinking of the dishes I could make. Not sure that would be of interest to a younger generation, who as you say can find that next great recipe on the Internet. Here's to the beauty of the past. May it bless us with sweet memories.
At 81, I have reached a point when I have reduced the stuff down to what I won't replace. It has been easier by donating to a cancer survivor thrift and a local church. That said, I still have too many books. IMHO, those represent who I am.
As always, thank you for another heart-felt post.
Afraid I'm guilty of hanging on to my books too . . . maybe one day, but right now, they bring me joy, and there are so many of them that I refer to rom time to time. Thank you for being here.
I’m in a different headspace, on a different path, than most. My beloved husband died 2 years ago June13. Except for a shrine and memorial space, everything stayed the same. Until it didn’t. My little dining room became a paean to world travel, which I have never done. My kitchen is a riot of artificial sunflowers and fat hovering bees. My living room became a vintage clock shop, my bedroom is an explosion of fat wooden arrows pointing every which way. This enthusiasm has a purpose, I think. I am acknowledging loss, while collecting things I love in place of a tender love that’s gone. Eventually, I will move on. I think. Perhaps!
Seems to me that you found a very creative and soulful way of expressing and dealing with grief. I'd say you are doing this just right. Biggest of hugs.
You are very kind. Thank you for understanding where I am going!
You appear to have found that creativity is it's own balm and moves one forward when it seems the world has stopped spinning. I think you're awesome. Big hugs.
This really sparked a lot of memories of times when it seemed the walls were collapsing on me under the weight of all the stuff. For years, I've followed van dwellers on YouTube, fascinated by how they pare down to their idea of essentials. Of course, over time, they too gather and feather their mobile nests. The van is traded in on a trailer or Class C RV. Then they get a truck with camper for those times they want to return to "small," leaving the big vehicle on the "home base property" they just purchased. It's really kind of funny watching the evolution ... or is it devolution? Humans are so fascinating. The gods must laugh constantly.
Sue, I'm with you. I do think we make the gods laugh . . .constantly! That's a really interesting story about small to a little larger to a little larger still and then back again. Is is just in our nature to gather and cling to things?
Yeah, I think we humans like to accumulate stuff. I didn't realize why until my husband explained that material things are a symbol of wealth, prosperity, and accomplishment. This epiphany came when a couple we knew were moving a long distance and had to rid themselves of their meager, newlywed treasurers. He didn't want to give up his movie disk player (this was in 1983). She was a musician so didn't want to ditch the guitar. (does this remind you of an O. Henry story, Gift of the Magi?) My husband told me that the man held that disk player as a sign that he was making progress in providing a living for his family and this was a special gift to himself for his success. I think that's true, but then over the years we reward ourselves with lots and lots of symbols of our success. Then we wonder why we don't have any money for retirement. DUH!
As a child-free person, I have no one to leave my stuff to - a couple of nieces will get some of my jewelry, but everything else...will have to be donated or removed one day. My mom - who is 80 - has been going through her drawers, cupboards and closets and getting rid of things or selling them (neighbourhood garage sales) or donating them to charity, and I am SO grateful to her for that. We talk about eventual downsizing for her (she is in a 2-bedroom home), but I'm encouraging her to age in place, surrounded by only her favourite things.
As for me now...I resell and give away my clothes, which is my justification for continuing to buy them (secondhand, of course!). When I hit retirement age (the next few years), I will divest myself of a good chunk of "office clothes" and my main jewelry collection will be dispersed to the nieces and younger generation of "Chosen Family" (my friends' kids).
A touching article, Stephanie, thank you.
Because I read your Substack, I know that you are recycling and repurposing all of the time -- and by far you are the coolest, most creative fashionista I've ever encountered.
I may have to hold a garage sale. Our neighborhood does a yearly one, and I've never participated, but because I'm engaged in a major purge, now might be the right time. Thanks for the idea. Sending you love, hugs and appreciation.
Do it! There is a huge satisfaction in connecting your things to new homes. Mom sold off all of her gardening equipment, including some very (originally) pricy things, to a young couple who had just started a business. She felt so good, knowing that she was helping them. Big hugs to you, Stephanie. <3
Thanks Sheila, I’ll let you know how it goes. Hugs back.