One of our main forms of entertainment over the years has been antiquing. My husband Bruce and I have traveled many miles to attend antique shows and have visited many small towns with main street antique malls. We attended Friday night auctions when we lived at Sweetwater Farm in Ohio and visited favorite shops regularly wherever we lived.
The result is a lot of stuff! Now, of course, we have downsized and are slowly but surely dispersing our stuff. Not an easy task, as many of you know who are also eager to lighten the load. This is a normal part of being at this stage of life, it seems.
I have no regrets about the collecting. Such fun we have had, and what pleasure we have derived from using what we have collected, and I admit I still love changing vignettes on tabletops, but I am no longer changing slipcovers and curtains and rugs and pictures --everything--when the seasons change. This is a time of editing, of using my time and energy for other pursuits, of being more content with less. I hasten to add that no one coming into our home, however, would say we have achieved a spare look!
So why then did we go to an antique market recently and why did I buy a bowl? I told myself I was going to rein in my husband who still has the collecting bug more than I do, but he came home with nothing, and I bought a bowl. I went for the eye candy and the pure pleasure of seeing interesting and pretty things and maybe even to see prices of things we have as we mark for our spring garage sales. I went because I could and because I wanted to go.
As we approached the first booth, I could feel myself becoming eager. What will I find? What will attract us? But I also felt reluctant, hesitant, and even a bit disinterested. This felt like a "been there, done that" moment.
Then I saw this darling bowl. English, painted with small forget-me-nots, and it said spring to me. Besides, I love bowls. Just look in my cupboards! It wasn't expensive and Bruce liked it, too, and it will look cute with a houseplant in it, and it won't take up much room, anyway.
As we continued through the show, me with the bowl in my hands, we both spotted other things that in another time, another place would have come home with us. We were especially tempted by a vintage wood sign painted a baby pink with the words Cottages for Rent. (We have also collected signs over the years.) Darling. Bruce asked me if there was a spot in my garret where I could hang it and believe me, I thought long and hard about that, but there isn't, and as I paused, I realized even if I did have room for it, I don't have to have it. This is now and that sign was then.
I did enjoy seeing what a younger generation is attracted to now and love that people are recycling, upcycling objects from the past and being creative in their decor, but I came home thinking more about what else I can do to simplify the look in our home, instead of making room for more stuff.
Now what about that bowl? I did buy it. In one regard I wish I hadn't, but I have decided it will be a reminder to me of another time, another place. I don't promise to cease and desist from attending any future antique shows, and I know I will find just the perfect thing yet again. I am comfortable with that, but I hope when temptation presents itself, I will respond as the person I am today and with mindful attention to the time and place I live in now.
An Invitation
What tempts you these days? Are your temptations reminiscent of another time and place in your life? I would love to know.
This weekend we are having our second garage sale since moving here, and it won't be the last. After over 40 years of happy antiquing, we are letting go of our treasures, but not of our memories.
Antiquing has been our hobby. Some people play golf or tennis or have a boat or sew or paint, but what we have loved doing together almost from the beginning of our marriage is searching for treasure. We have loved exploring small towns and urban neighborhoods all in pursuit of pottery bowls and green depression glass and one more vintage tablecloth, oh, and something for the garden that will look just right next to the roses. We have eaten burgers and fries at small town drive-ins and oohed and aahed at valleys flowing into the next county or a farmhouse where we know we could be happy if we lived a different life. We have gotten up early on cold Saturday mornings in order to pass through the gates of a outdoor antique market before someone else buys just what we always wanted, but didn't know that till we saw it! We have taken home bits and pieces of those places--those lives--over the years and created our own version of home.
Such wonderful memories I have, as well, of antiquing with friends who have shared the same passion. Friendships were deepened as we talked in the car or walked aisles of an antique mall. When a long time friend and I invited my sister and daughter to join us as "Girls on Safari," awarding prizes for the first purchase of the day or to the person who got the best bargain, we enjoyed times of play and silliness.
Letting Go
But now, as Joan Chittister http://www.benetvision.org in her book The Gift of Years, Growing Older Gracefully says, "The time for heaping up is over." (p. 90)
She also says,
Life, it seems, follows a relentless cycle: in our early
years we accumulate, but in our later years we divest.
Both of them have a place in life. Both of them are a
struggle. Both of them are liberating. p. 89
The struggles in those years of accumulating were in the form of working long hours and of balancing family time with couple time and individual time and in making decisions about how we wanted to live and where and making that happen. At the same time growing our family and ourselves brought so much joy and love into our lives. How lucky we have been.
Now the struggle comes in the process of divesting. I hasten to add that my husband has been taking the lead with the garage sales, doing the vast majority of the work, and I am grateful. This is just one step along the way of lightening the load, however. Earlier I became the Queen of Craigslist and 1-800-Got Junk, and we have both made countless trips to Goodwill. We have gathered in over time, and it will take more time to disperse the booty, but we are on our way.
An Example from the Past
Many years ago, when our children were young, we were invited to a 4th of July party given by an older colleague of my husband's, another doc. They had lived in a grand, old home near one of the lakes in Minneapolis, but recently they had sold that home and built a much smaller and far more contemporary styled home on the back of their original lot. The home was stunning, and we were intrigued by what they had done. It was clear they were thrilled with their accomplishment. They had lightened their load and you could see it not only in the sparse furnishings, but also in the way they talked about their lives as being freer and less constrained, even though they were living in far less space. I admired them. I even recognized the wisdom of what they had done, but I wasn't at that stage yet myself.
We have a long way to go before our load is that light, but we are making progress, and I hope the upcoming garage sale will bring us closer to the goal. I know I still love beautiful and interesting things and am not ready to let go of everything, but I am surprised as Bruce opens yet another bin how easy it is to say, "Yup, sell it all." I have no regrets about our acquisition process, although I wish this part of the process would be easier. That being said, even a garage sale brings unexpected pleasures, along with empty bins--meeting our neighbors and seeing two young boys' delight when they bought an ice cream maker or a young woman who bought a quilt because it reminds her of her grandmother. They are in another part of the life cycle, and that's the way it should be.
The Reason for This Process
As I lighten the load, however, I need to keep asking myself, "What am I creating room for? What is important about clearing the space?" Yes, it will be helpful to my children if there is less stuff when the time comes to sell this house for whatever reason, and I know I don't want to spend as much time cleaning and arranging and hometending, and I would rather spend time doing other things, writing and reading and being with family and friends. Once again Chittister offers words of wisdom,
Little by little we begin to strip down a layer at a time…
And little by little we become less of our outer image
and more of our inner selves." (p. 92)
This is a time of spiritual acquisition--of deepening our relationship to God, in whatever way we define and name the sacred and the holy, as the people we were created. That is the true goal.
An Invitation
Have you started this divesting process and if so, how is it going for you? What are you learning about yourself as you do this? I would love to know.
