Identifying the essentials

Recently I spent some time going through my possessions, and even though it doesn't feel like I have made any progress, I filled 4 bags with items to donate to charity. I filled the bags with a variety of things - books I won't read, clothes that no longer suit me, and other items that are a part of my past. I was surprised to discover how easily I could let go of many of the clothes, even though I do not yet have suitable replacements. I came to the realisation I did not feel that they are worthy of the woman I see myself as.

It's funny; whilst I was in Germany with my parents for a week at the end of July, I wore about 2 different outfits - either jeans and a top and trainers, or leggings and a top and trainers. I had intended to buy additional items before I flew out; in the end I did not even buy them in Germany. I did not really need them in that moment. I was able to make do with what I had. Actually, wearing make-up and feeling fresh and clean was the most important. I even wore the same necklace and ear-rings every day for a week, and nobody said anything. I discovered I didn't need to try so hard. I did not need a 2nd pair of shoes I had carried with me, and when I really needed a few extra tops, I found just the right T-shirts in my size to last me the week.

In spite of the fact that I have now travelled a bit, including for work trips, I never realised before just how little I really need; what is actually absolutely essential.

Because I had sprained my ankle not that long ago, I was restricted to trainers in terms of shoes, and this did limit my wardrobe, but this was really a fortunate incident, because it meant I had less to take, and therefore, less to think about when I was there. In fact, it was ideal.

And so when I woke up on my first morning back, and opened my wardrobe, the first thing I noticed was that most of the items of clothing in there I did not want to keep. I no longer even wanted to wear them. And, instead of doing what I would previously have done, and talking myself out of this thought, I took these items of clothing out and put them straight into my bags, to donate to charity. I decided I will replace them when I need them; I wouldn't even put them aside for 6 months "just in case". I will buy new clothes in due course, and make space to allow new styles and colours to find their way to me.

It wasn't just clothes I  could get rid of though - even an old wallet that I had saved for foreign travel, and a pocket mirror that I never use, and a miniature lipstick compact that I had treasured for years, but not used in ages, went into the bags. As did a pair of evening gloves, and a sparkly crop top that I may or may not have worn to go dancing, but is no longer my style.

And whilst I hadn't known the charity shops closed at 4, and did not actually get around to taking these bags to donate and let go completely, that first weekend, placing the items in the bag in the first place, was actually, the first, most important, step.

In some instances I came to realise I had bought too many of an item, because I did not keep my belongings organised, or I had bought a new one when the previous one no longer worked, but did not dispose of the first item. Even more surprising, were some of the items I had had for years, had desperately wanted at the time, perhaps, and never even got around to opening or using, for one reason or another. The reasons aren't necessarily important, but it has made me realise I do not really need as much in terms of material possessions as I had believed, and I am happy to shed this excess weight; to begin to buy only what I need, and to be more mindful when I purchase things in future.

I'm still not entirely sure how and where to dispose of some of the items (batteries need to done separately, and I can never remember the rules about lightbulbs), but I now understand that even just separating them out and marking them to be disposed of, allows me to learn to let go and live with what I need.

Purlgirl

Breathing out

I wrote this last September. I found it over the weekend and am sharing it now, as it reminds me of this.

I've finally come to the realisation that autumn really is my favourite time of the year, and that if I had to pick a favourite month, it would be September.

Without a doubt, every year on the 1st of September, I feel like I can let go, I can relax, and I can stop holding my breath.

I think it may partly be to do with spending June, July and August wishing it to be sunny and warm - if the weather is changeable in June and July, as many years it is wont to be, it feels as if I am having to wait for August to make up for it. And if it's a glorious summer, with wall-to-wall sunshine, and long hot sunny days, no matter how much I enjoy myself, and make the most of it, in the back of my mind there is the realisation that this can't last, even if it's sunny until the 31st of August, the summer will eventually come to a close.

And at other times the sunny weather can even seem to create a peculiar kind of pressure - to feel as though I must do something; it's not acceptable to be indoors, to not want to go outside and sit in the park. In addition to this, summer is that time of year when the majority of people go away on their summer holidays, and whilst I may have exactly the same amount of annual leave days in a year as my colleagues, it can feel as though they have more - simply because most years I need to save up a longer portion of my holidays to fly to Namibia, and visit my family. When you're flying 8,000km to go home, you want to make the most of it, and one week or 10 days is barely enough time to recover from the travel (fortunately no jet-lag), and going in August is not ideal because it's their winter.

So all of this, combining the tales of other people's exotic holidays, which they are either going on, or returning from, can make it feel as if the summer is endless.

When I worked on a temporary contract in Bristol years ago, this didn't bother me, because I was in demand in the summer, and I was covering for people I didn't know, and wouldn't meet. Plus, the more I worked, the more money I could save up, so there was a reward in doing as many hours as possible, and I could enjoy the sunshine at lunch, and after work. 

In Bristol, I used to walk home via one of the parks near the Avon River, and one of my favourite things to do on my way home was to find a spot overlooking the river, and to sit and be with my thoughts; I might sit and write, or reflect on the day, or simply watch the seagulls wheeling above the river. This was a time of peace that I would relish every day whilst I was at work. I knew I could savour it later, once I'd completed my responsibilities.

A few years ago, a group of dance friends and I signed up for a dance holiday in Ibiza in late September. That summer was amazing; I had something to look forward to all summer, friends to share in the excitement and run-up to the holiday. Plus it was all-inclusive - including all meals, all expenses and dance lessons, which to someone like me, who finds organising the minutiae of a holiday challenging, if not time-consuming, was ideal. All I had to do was pack my bags, and remember my dance shoes, and I was ready go to!

It has reminded me that it's good to have something to look forward to over the summer, to try and build in time to rest and to remind myself that all I have to do is make it through to September, that golden month when I can pause and take stock of what I have achieved, and recognise I still have 3 months to ensure I make the year one to remember.

Purlgirl