Rollercoaster rides are not for everyone

The last several weeks have been a huge emotional rollercoaster for us. We were *moments* away from signing on a one year lease and sending our deposit when we had to back out of the commitment because we still did not have a plan for our three house kitties if we rented a house in Mexico that didn't allow cats. (They originally said they did allow cats and then they changed their minds and said just dogs.) We had come up with several plans including renting our house to someone who would keep the cats here and pay a reduced rent, talked with some friends about adopting our three cats and neither option worked out. When we said no to the rental we were both in complete shock for 6 days and we felt like our whole dream to move to Mexico had evaporated before our eyes. I immediately embraced the idea of staying here and forgot everything about why we wanted to move. I started gardening again and had plans to start a goat therapy farm and try to have the goats earn their keep. It felt good to fall right back into something that I love. It felt familiar, which feels safe. 

Three days before we were going to sign the rental agreement in Mexico I had finally found the future farm of my dreams for my goaties and all my chickens and ducks. A wonderful family with 5 kids in Pomfret agreed to take my whole crew. I got off a call with their future owner and totally cried my eyes out with relief. I had spent months and months looking for homes for them and nothing was working out. I had asked 47 farms, sanctuaries and friends with no luck. But after we decided to not rent that house I had to write to the new farm family and tell them what had happened and that maybe we weren't moving after all, but we weren't sure. Would they be willing to wait a few weeks for us to decide? When I shared what I had written to them with my husband, he and I started talking about what we want to do again. We hadn't even really talked about it directly since we declined the rental. We somehow woke ourselves back up and realized that all the reasons we waned to move to Mexico in the first place are still valid and that we can figure out a solution. Right now, that vision is looking like it might involve not renting a house in Mexico, but buying a small second home. 

So I will pick up where I left off in my cleaning and purging of our belongings. I got rid of SO MUCH STUFF in the last few weeks. I set up a Free Table at the end of our driveway and as soon as I put stuff out there, people come and pick it up. It has been incredible. Saving me so much time driving around trying to find places to donate it all. I have packed a few boxes of things we want to keep and sentimental items. The momentum of cleaning out is really inspiring and I find that I am really enjoying the process and it is getting easier the more I do it. It is quite liberating! 

I re-watched the movie The Minimalists a few weeks ago for inspiration and found some gems of wisdom to guide my process. As I went through old things I had to decide what to do with each memory. All the old baby clothes I had saved, my grandmother's vase that had broken and been glued back together, a box of my own baby teeth, my old report cards and diaries from grade school. No one needs these things, no one will use them again- but here they are and I have to decide what to do with them. Something curious happens when you have held on to something for "sentimental reasons" and then suddenly 15, 20, maybe even 30 years has gone by and the time you have held on to the thing in storage somehow increases its sentimental value? As if it were actually possible that the item is somehow personally more valuable to you since you have kept it for so long? It is a trick my mind has been playing on me for years but I just made myself look that trick in the eyes and realized it is not true. This quote from the Minimalists movie struck a chord with me and helped me clarify why I am hanging on to stuff I don't need: 

"Nothing ends. It changes. What you're clinging to is already gone."

This was the epiphany I needed! It seems obvious to me now, but I just kept saving stuff without really thinking about it. After thinking of sentimental items in this new way I found that I was able to let go of the things I was clinging to, even though they are infused with memories of people and times in my life. I realized that the memories could persist without the item. The items themselves were separate from the people they represented to me. 

My grandmother is not the broken vase. 

My childhood is not in my baby teeth. 

My baby is not his old baby clothes. 

It is okay to say goodbye to the thing and keep the memories. 

The lightness that I already feel is incredible.