I Gave Away my Worldly Possessions
Changing to a minimalist life taught me more than one lesson.
Ruthlessly, my partner and I flung old stools and moth-eaten floor rugs into the large skip plonked in our driveway.
When I say my partner and me, I mean me. I was the ruthless one. He was the reluctant participant dragged along in my wake.
It was June 2020, in the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic, when we decided to move to the city (read about that here). My son had already left home and we were bored, needed jobs and were keen to start our third act.
Let’s give it all away!
We combined households a couple of years before and having moved house more than a few times in my life, I was embracing the minimalist vibe. My partner wasn’t as comfortable letting things go, so I learned to take a deep breath and respect his wishes. Rolling my eyes as I walked away.
Once the junk was gone, we decided to have a ‘free’ garage sale for the rest. I would rather give things away than haggle with people and end up making fifty bucks, it’s not worth the effort. Every day I was adding to the collection on our front porch as we packed.
I was pulling things out of cupboards and being decisive about what stays and what goes. I restocked racks of clothes and collections of crockery; books and cookware, football memorabilia, my button tin. I took photos and posted them on Facebook Marketplace every few hours, as items came and went.
Most of us feel awkward taking free stuff.
We lived in a small town and as people started to drop by to have a look, we had so many lovely conversations. There was the lady who lost everything in a house fire, she spotted a cookbook that had been one of her favourites. It was a simple thing that made her happy. She came back a few more times for a look and a chat.
Each person who picked out a treasure would ‘ask are you sure?’. People brought their children to fossick. It was lovely that they could say yes, and not worry if they didn’t have the money.
It’s fascinating to see what is valuable to others. Someone snapped up the jumble of cables and leads and plugs that drove me crazy for years. Old computer speakers, furniture, and many DVDs found new homes.
The sale went on for over a week and some mornings we’d wake up to find things had gone from the porch overnight. It made me feel warm and fuzzy that someone saw something during the day but was too shy, so came back at night. Maybe it was thieves, but whatever.
Some people came back with a gift for us. Something small that they made or flowers from their garden. It was all so surprisingly lovely and humbling.
Seeing old friends was an unexpected bonus.
Friends I hadn’t seen in ages popped by to say hello and goodbye. We could meet maskless back then, in the window between lockdowns. Squinting in the autumn sun while we caught up, hugging goodbye. We weren’t able to have a going-away party, so this surprise aspect was especially welcomed.
Letting go of stuff feels good!
At first, my partner clung fiercely to his early noughties brick-a-brack, as I lunged, trying to wrench it from his grip. He was attached to his things, but I had a hunch that if he could let go of just a few, he would benefit later on.
It was witnessing all the genuine human connections that finally got him on board. After a day or so, he was flinging faded candles and antique-look coasters onto the porch with abandon, chatting away to strangers, joyous as Julie Andrews twirling on the mountainside.
We don’t miss any of the things we gave away (except that vegetable peeler) and it’s been a freeing experience. Having things stashed in cupboards and boxes and sheds contributes to my mental load. Continuous background noise increasing my stress levels.
We have some precious things in storage; my son’s first shoes, my old diaries, our first teddy bears. Now we are able to live minimally in our city apartment, and the bonus is, that next time we move, it will be so much easier.
My intention was to get rid of stuff as quickly and efficiently as possible. It wasn’t about charity or being a good person, I didn’t want accolades. I simply wanted it all gone.
Giving our possessions away was an enriching experience for both of us. I recommend giving it a go. Imagine all the stuff, in all the cupboards and sheds in the world, that could go to another home. IMAGINE!
Lindy Ralph is a fifty-two-year-old Australian writer living in Melbourne. A Professional Writing and Editing student, she writes honest stories about her life intending to help other women to feel seen.
Lindy is the mother of a kind young man, a partner, friend, foodie, and fatty.
She/Her. Living on Bunurong Boon Wurrung land.
