Reminiscences

Seeing a room full of the stuff we've accumulated over the years is bitter-sweet. We're finally getting closer to our departure date and that will mark the end of a chapter. Shelves & cabinets line our emptied spare bedroom and we've carefully displayed our wares for this "pre-garage sale" we're hosting in March. Our family wanted the opportunity to have first dibs on our stuff before we have the real garage sale in June. Ruthlessly going through the house when preparing for the sale felt like a full scale excavation, an archeological dig, a blast to the past with each item telling a story:

My desktop zen garden was something I wanted so badly years ago - I felt it would help me learn to live in the "now". The snorkel set brings back memories of Mexico -and Aron's lobster-red back (he's now fully sold on the merits of sunscreen!) The porcelain jewellery cases from my girlhood that will go to my nieces. The Ikea pictures & cheap wooden frames (wow, we really did a lot of shopping at Ikea back in the day!) The raw cookbooks (yes, it's an oxymoron), the flute, Aron's tai kwan do shoes... hobbies & interests that ran their fairly short course. Many unopened articles: the wineglasses, Watkins pedicure set, the floral stationery, the extra rolls of wallpaper.


In liquidating the things we no longer need, we're making room for the new. The new will involve a certain level of asceticism: condensing our worldly goods to two backpacks. I feel a sense of freedom when I think about Aron & I wandering the world with nothing but what's strapped to our backs. Occasionally, along with the freedom there is an undercurrent of trepidation, but I try to remember what Helen Keller believed: "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing"