We sold our house yesterday. We signed a lot of papers, handed over the keys, and said an official farewell to a place we loved.
The rational part of me accepts that a house is just concrete, bricks, glass, steel beams, and wood. As George Carlin once pointed out, a house is simply a container for you and your stuff. The emotional part of me, however, has a difficult time separating all the wonderful memories created in the house from its drywall. The house we sold is where we brought my son when we brought him home. I wrote my book in that house. There are six and a half years of my family’s laughter and happiness within those walls.
As with almost all possessions, though, there comes a time when an object stops meeting your needs. Something that was perfect for you in the past, is no longer a perfect fit in the present. And, as difficult as it is to let go, it’s the right thing to do to be able to pursue the life of your dreams.
Even though I’ve been living as an unclutterer for close to a decade, I still haven’t come to the point where I can completely turn off my emotional attachments to sentimental things. I’m not an automaton. I still mourn a little when I say goodbye to objects that have passed through my life, but now I can at least bid them farewell when it’s appropriate.
There is nothing wrong with feeling a little sting when saying goodbye to objects you have loved. Just don’t let that sting keep you from parting with something that no longer fits with your life and the life you desire. When uncluttering, if you need to take a few minutes to mourn the end of ownership of an object, take a few minutes to mourn.