A friend recently asked me if I regret anything I’ve got rid of. My answer was easy. No. Not a thing. In fact, I’d be hard pushed to remember most of the stuff I’ve sold, thrown or given away. So if that’s the case, why is it sometimes so hard to get rid of stuff?
For the past few months we’ve been having a real push on reducing our last remaining possessions. I’ve written before about layers of stuff and we’re definitely down to the last layers now. This is maybe where decisions become more difficult. My clothes, for example, are now almost down to the ones I actually wear. It would be tough to get rid of much more without having to do washing all the time.
But I had this leather jacket I bought a good 16 years ago. I bought it in Camden Town when we first lived in London and have lots of fond memories attached to it. I was still wearing it about 7 years ago when I was expecting my first baby. It’s been with me a while. But slowly I have worn it less and it hasn’t left its hanger for a good few years now so into the “stuff to get rid of” pile it had to go.
It stayed in the pile for a while. I tried it on again. And again. It went back on its hanger. Then back in the pile. It really didn’t suit me any more. But maybe this autumn the style would come back and I’d like it again? Boy did I dither.
This morning I gave the jacket to a charity shop. How do I feel? Fine! Of course, it shouldn’t be a surprise, it’s like that every time. In fact, if anything I feel better. Better that it’s gone and I don’t have to think about it any more. No regrets. Not a twang. It’s gone. Simple. Oh and those memories? It turns out they weren’t attached to the jacket at all. They are still very much here.