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I knew I had a problem when I became a bit obsessive about tracking and getting back a small plastic container I had loaned out, something that would cost me less than a dollar to replace.
Why was this item so important to me and why couldn't I just graciously give it to the person using it? Probably I have reached my breaking point - a natural resting place where I need to stop and replenish some of the soul reserves that have been depleted of late.
After vowing to back in January, I finally moved out of my home (which has been good for me and the space which, free of my occupancy, is getting some much needed TLC). Not yet ready to make a commitment to a new place, I sold, donated and gave away a bunch of stuff and put what remained into storage and am in temporary digs while I chart my new course.
Letting go of stuff so that it wouldn't sit unused in storage or require me to pay for extra space was a useful, albeit at times painful, exercise. I still have memories of some items and have to wrestle with moments of regret.
I am mindful that stuff is just stuff, not me. But items and objects can nevertheless have value, worth and meaning. I don't believe that there is anything wrong with loving your stuff but it can be problematic when you feel it defines you.
In my case, however, it's not that I have some deep love for and identification with my little plastic bowl and lid. Rather it is that I have let go of so much that I'm feeling somewhat irrationally impoverished and incomplete. Like I have so little to represent me now that any little insignificant loss at this point is like ripping off an appendage. And, because I imagine that at some point in the future I will have a space to furnish and fill, there is so much I will need to get that, dammit, another $0.75 is too much!
Alas, as with everything in life I believe, there is love and there is fear. And I am landing far too heavily on the fear side of that scale. Too much fear that I lack and there will not be plenty in the future or enough when I need it. Too little love and faith and trust in myself to make do with what I have, to be content in my circumstances or to be stripped metaphorically naked and walk proudly out into the world as my little self-contained unit of me.
It's a process. But at least I recognize what's happening and where it's coming from. That's progress. And so I know I will get there.
Do you find yourself tightening your grip on stuff and figuring out that you need to let go? How do you recognize your impulse and what is the oil can you use to loosen up?
Related Reading:
Leslie Ruth at Diary Of A Southern Drama Queen: Loosening My Grip
I’m been on a personal retreat of sorts. A necessary break to think, pray, write {oh, how I love the written word!}, run, think and pray some more. A chance to confront and explore the parts of myself that need examining. The parts that need God’s truth, mercy and love. The parts that need to loosen their grip and give up control.
3 Little Snaps: Loosening the Grip
The other day one of my kids decided to wear two different socks to school. Another wore cowboy boots with sweatpants. At one time this would have sent me into a tailspin. When the girls wore little cutsie outfits with frilly bows were a must. Mommy and me classes and comparing developmental milestones were the norm. They seemed important. Back then what people thought of my parenting seemed so attached to what they thought of my children.
Heather at Season[ing]s: Loosening My Grip
Which is actually a test of strength, after all.... even though it seems like an act of weakness - letting go and letting someone else.
But it's the secure, strong ones who can relax those gripping muscles.
Christine Arens at The Ivory Zone: Lose The Grip To Gain Control
I learned that, in order for me to really be in control, I needed to live in the moment, and have the most physical options. And, for me to have the most options of any movement, I had to loosen my grip on things. This was such a foreign
