Lost in transit
After a bout of decluttering a few days ago, I decided to get rid of a dress I'd loved but hadn't worn for some time. It was an incredible charity shop bargain and an absolutely beautiful day-dress. It had lived a life in the 'maybe' pile for quite some time before I decided the time had come to part with it. I even sold it on eBay for more than I paid for it. Everything was going very well.
Part of me was very glad that, although the dress was no longer serving its purpose with me, it might be going to someone who could truly appreciate it and wear it often; it could go on and do its job. But the dress was lost in transit. I have no idea where it is. The company I sent it with have no idea where it is.
I gave the customer a refund and have put in a request for compensation with the delivery company but there was more to my irritation. I felt a sadness that the possession I chose, bought and shared my space with was laying somewhere forgotten about. Minimalism allows me to have less of a connection with my possessions and appreciate them as the tools and objects they are, but there is part of me that truly loves the things I have chosen to keep. I know I'd be okay without them but with my attachment shared between fewer things, it feels stronger.
I am definitely guilty of attaching feelings to objects as though they were living. I have had clothes that I have felt judged me and books that have felt neglected; toys that have felt unloved and even kitchenware sets that feel lonely after one of their comrades got broken. I now imagine my dress on a warehouse floor, dirty and alone; something akin to Toy Story 3. It is like a bizarre combination of an overactive imagination, the idea that I must have some relevance in the "lives" of the things I own and an enthusiastic willingness to feel guilty at any opportunity.
It is a shame that the dress I sold has no home but I am grateful it has provided me with an opportunity to reanalyse my relationship with my things and to remember what is truly important.