Sorting through my closets for the garage sale this weekend has been a really good experience for me. I actually found a pair of my favorite jeans, but discovered I had about 20 pairs (!) of pants that really needed to be sold for one reason or another. They're piled up now on the floor of my closet, waiting for Saturday's sale.Yesterday, I sorted books, adding two more boxes of them to the bags of books I had already decided to sell at Half Priced Books. Once again I was amazed at the number of books I'd been holding onto for reasons unclear to me at this time. For example, why do I have three copies of the American Heart Association's Cookbook? Or the yellowed copies of Macbeth or King Lear, when I've already got good copies of them taking up space on my bookshelf?
Tonight I'm hoping we'll go through the attic. By the way, I always wear a mask when I'm going through these dusty things. I can avoid a headache that way, for sure.
As it turns out, Jacob's Boy Scout garage sale is this weekend, too. So I donated the big industrial-sized desk we bought when Kirk was working at home. Four grown men (God bless them!) showed up yesterday to get it, and it took all of them to lift the thing into their truck.
Letting go is very good for the soul, I've decided. I feel lighter and freer for it, that's for sure. But one question keeps bothering me: why did I hold onto these things for so long in the first place?
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