The Elephant in the Blog

Okay, so a post or two ago I mentioned that I was ‘away’ and hadn’t been able to put any energy into my mission, my personal quest of simplifying and clearing out my life.

I genuinely thought the distraction would fill my time for a few days but that I would be right back to purge and release ‘no longer useful’ items. Not exactly.

Aaron, the man with whom I’ve spent almost all of my free for a good long time now, the most amazing man I've ever known, my love, decided to leave. To go for a long, long walk. Across the continent, no less. I will not go into all the details of how I feel about this development emotionally, spiritually. At least not here. But I will speak to the practical impact it’s had upon my life recently.

I haven’t said this specifically here, but it is my hope to get rid of one third of all my stuff. 1/3. Doesn’t this sound significant? Symbolic? Substantial? (My ‘double secret probation’ hope was that I would actually be able to part with half. 50% of everything I own. But I’m afraid to say it aloud.) I would be so impressed with myself if I could pull off a third.

An aside to this 1/3 thing:
I mentioned to my supervisor at work that I was aiming for this lofty goal: one third, she seemed impressed with my ambition. She said she thinks the more things we accumulate, the more unhappy we seem to become.

“Exactly,” I said.

(This was a refreshing reaction as most people just stare, waiting for me to get to some non-existent punch line.)

Then she looked at me and said that the problem she would have if she were attempting such a goal would be the counting.

“The counting?” I asked.

“Yes, I’d have to count everything first to make sure I was actually throwing out a third.”

Oh no. OH NO! What has she done? This hadn’t occurred to me. I’m very methodical with such tasks. Very linear and retentive. Of course, counting. I'll have to count! How can I ever know if was really one third or not? This was a devastating development. I should have shoved my fingers into my ears and started humming Sweet Georgia Brown as soon as I could tell where her point was headed. But once she’d said it, and I’d heard it, it could not be unheard. It was out there now.

Just before the onset of the panic attack that was headed straight for me, I consulted with my many personalities and made an executive decision: Ball Park.

I am going to approximate this one third. I will simply be happy, ecstatic even, to be in the same ball park as one third. I might have to ‘round up’ but this is okay.

You think I jest about the counting, but at other times in my life, I would have reveled in the process of counting before hand, to assure myself of the satisfaction of a true one third. Counting how many books I have, how many wine glasses I have. I'd have needed to hire student help to assist with the counting and the inevitable spread sheets.

But no: I'm going to Ball Park! Turns out I can ‘let go’ of more than just some old wind chimes.

Enough aside for now....

One key dimension of Aaron’s Great Adventure was getting rid of almost all of his personal possessions. This turned out to be fascinating. And relevant to my own process. In some ways, watching him throw out things so easily was perplexing, but then at other times I found it inspiring. And others still, nauseating and sad.

He hand-picked a few important items: bass guitar, photographs, some books, Peanuts pillowcase (‘Important’ is relative, it seems), all his music CDs, the Cabin Boy DVD, old Taco Bell sauce packets (not really).

These were all stored securely, awaiting his safe return. Pretty much everything else, however, went. Some he gave to family and loved ones. Appropriately. Some to Goodwill. Some garbage. All furniture, all household items (kitchen, bathroom, bedroom), plants, clothes, electronics. TV, bed, lamps, dishes, clock, towels and more.

It was the most interesting, strange process to be involved in. In his possession, to take with him, he kept just enough to stuff into a good sized back pack. Maybe forty pounds. He went from a large one bedroom apartment with all the essential accoutrement implied, down to a high-end REI backpack. This process took over a week, fitting in a day here or there for going to work.

Because of my emotional investment in the situation and my very strong feelings about his leaving at all, it was INTENSE. I cried some. I marveled often. I wished he would come to my house and return the favor, but there wasn’t time before his departure date. Plus I would not have had anything close to his ability to release and let go. Had the situation been reversed, I would have been groveling, begging with my arms wrapped around his ankles pleading with him to please, please, PLEASE let me keep my purple socks, that are actually two different colors of purple and itch like crazy so I never actually wear them. “I love those socks!” “Those were the socks I wore to drill team camp in Ellensburg when we did the routine to Freak Out.” “I need those socks. Don’t do it.” So it would never, ever would have worked had the situations been reversed.

This is a guess on my part but I’d say, in the end Aaron probably got rid of a solid 90 % of everything he owed. (Making my ‘grandiose’ 1/3 seem pretty paltry. And don’t think we didn’t have a nice little talk about that!) Besides feeling that he was ‘showing off’ his ninja ‘letting go’ abilities, I was in shock. Impressed, awestruck, speechless.

Aside from how I feel about his leaving, I’m hoping to parlay the energy and inspiration I feel from helping him with this process into a snowball effect for my own cause. I hope. We’ll see. He started his walking trip today. Which means I will have more concentrated time. Time that may seem ‘tainted’ to a certain extent, but I’m counting on myself to get past this.

We’ll see, indeed.

Today was quite satisfying in all purging respects.
May 3, 2010 ~ The back seat of my car was filled with bags and boxes. Maybe playing some catch up. I needed the assistance of the two guys at the Salvation Army drop station to help me unload. Clothes, stationary, candlesticks, snow pants, books, kid’s stickers & craft supplies, sofa pillows. A hideous blue lamp from the late sixties, shower rod, wall clock, gift ribbon and wrap and cards. This stuff was all easy. There was no hesitation in my hands when shifting, weeding any of these things. But my Panasonic Receiver? That was a different story. This, we'll need to talk about. More tomorrow.