Not the Same River

If you’ve ever sold anything on Facebook Marketplace that was even moderately sought after, you know the inquiries that come in can range from a moderate trickle (in the case of a slow-moving item) to super intense: I posted a computer monitor a couple of months ago and I received over a hundred inquiries in the first day. It was crazy.

I’ve sold many things. I’ve also given away many things on our neighborhood Buy Nothing page. Each requires attention to monitor and respond, especially if you want something to move fast. I’ve also learned to respond quickly and tell people right away the general area you live in, that way they can figure out quickly whether it’s worth the drive. I do my best to communicate according to the Golden Rule of Marketplace messaging: be quick and offer useful information to make communication as efficient as possible. Most people don’t do this!

On Friday, I found myself in a frenzy of communicating with people, arranging pickups and sales, and just basically feeling like a headless chicken (more classic metaphors for the win! Keep a tally – I might use more) I was still unburdening from the camping extravaganza, and I felt like all Palmer wanted to do was watch TV. I mean, who could blame him – it was hot and he was tired and I was so distracted by all this headless chickening. I was not pleased with how much he wanted my time and attention and how little I had for him. There will just be days like that.

As people came and picked up their things, I felt this chatty lightness that comes from connecting with strangers over why they’re buying something (i.e., having a baby, needing a sewing table, or a daughter’s cheerleading training, to name a new) and why I’m selling (I’m moving!). I actually really like it. I’ve never really thought about it before, but I really enjoy that brief connection and insight into someone else’s life. It also just felt good to start making a dent in the physical unburdening of possessions, though there is still so much more to go! “I will not stare at the mountain, I will only look at the hill in front of me” (that’s me quoting myself – I just made that up. I thought it looked more important in quotes.)

Our things are just things. I am not one to attach too much sentiment to objects, though some take up more room in my heart and mind than others, and that’s okay too. However, I am amazed at the rate at which things accumulate. Four years in a house to care for, the changing needs of child who went from babyhood to little kid-hood, and our own ebbs and flows of hobbies and interests, mean that there are so, so many things. Little things. Potentially useful, potentially trash. One might look at the profusion of stuff and feel ashamed, critical of the consumerism, the visage of temporary desires and permanent waste.

I have thought and read a lot about minimalism in the last year and I definitely side philosophically with it. But the practice and enforcement of it, I have come to recognize, is not a static state that is maintained with draconian precision once achieved. It is a cycle of life, an ambition. And it looks different for everyone. I look at my things and go “wow – this is terrible. I should be better. I should be ashamed”. And then I think “f- that. Why should I feel bad for living my life?”. I love the lightness and freedom of unburdening. But I also recognize that so much of why we accumulate things is part of greater process of growing, accruing, learning, and then molting – literally shedding the skin of objects and tools that no longer serve us.

I will continue to sell our big tickets items – though the shipping conundrum mentioned a few days will come to a critical decision point, which will shape what I continue to sell. I was also recently connected to a neighbor (through the Buy Nothing Facebook group) to a great little non-profit that helps families in need (experiencing homelessness, etc.) by first setting them up in a transitional home and then finding them sustainable permanent housing. They are always looking for items to help these families furnish their new homes – and guess who will have a whole kitchens-worth of things to give away? This girl! I am pleased that I can connect the things I have directly to someone else. Goodwill and Salvation Army are fine places to bring donations, but I think it’s helpful to get donation items out of the “mainstream” repositories and more directly into the literal hands of the people who need them.

At any rate, the process forges ahead and I take one more deep breath. . . and keep walking up that hill!