You wanna fly, you got to give up the thing that weighs you down.
~Toni Morrison
So, I haven’t really bought into the whole Marie Kondo thing – you know, giving away or otherwise divesting yourself of things that do not bring you joy. And yet, more and more, I find myself implementing at least parts of the process (or, quite honestly, what I’ve read about the process… which does not include, um, the book itself…).
For the last couple of years, I have tried to get rid of more than I bring in. I have donated countless items of clothing, linens (towels, sheets, etc.), kitchen items (nearly a whole set of pots and pans that I simply was not using), and so on. I’ve taken so many books to the half price bookstore – where sometimes I get a few dollars for bringing them, but it’s really more about getting them out of my apartment.
This weekend, I sold my digital piano.
It’s not that playing the piano does not bring me joy. It does, and always has. But the piano itself, at this stage in my life, was not bringing me joy. Instead, it sat, neglected, in my small bedroom, a source of guilt that I was focusing on other things right now and not playing it as much as I wanted. I don’t even know if I have played it since I moved into this apartment. I honestly don’t remember.
I wanted to sell that, and I still want to sell a recliner that is, simply, the least comfortable chair (for ME!) that I have ever owned. It was more my spouse’s chair, and well, we don’t live together. I also dislike the print and the color and the fact that it has wooden arms that get dusty. (Can you tell that the recliner is, um, not my favorite piece of furniture? :>)
Anyway, I happened to mention in a meeting at work that I really wanted to sell this piano, and a colleague jumped on it. She and her wife have a young child (nearly 3, I believe) and they have another on the way. She plays the piano and loves it, and wants her children to play it as well. The price was right, she convinced her wife that this was a good purchase, and in 10 minutes on Saturday, she and her friends moved the piano and its accessories out of my apartment.
It was, briefly, a sad moment for me. And then I was so, so happy. I gave her the books I had that weren’t either truly sentimental (2 of them, both from musicals in high school) or in horrid shape or, honestly, embarrassing (um, Red Hot Hits from 1987?). And she texted me later that night that she was already playing one of the books and loved it. And I smiled. And went happily to sleep.
My parents, who save everything, do not understand this. For me, I feel lighter, happier, and more content in my space and my life. And to me, that’s invaluable.