She is being evicted, has limited resources, and does not know where she will go.
Even though she lives with someone in their home, she has filled it to the brim with stuff. The garage is packed floor to ceiling and unusable. The house and patio are at their limits, too. She likes to collect cute things at garage sales and seems to love them all.
And now, she has to leave in two days. Her last garage sale was this week and the garage is still 2/3 full. This letting go seems to be pulling her apart inside and filling her with grief.
Is there a break through coming from this heartbreak? I don’t know.
What I do know is that witnessing her experience has intrigued and touched me. I can’t even imagine what this is like for her.
And yet, I know this is her journey and stuff is just stuff. I wonder what it represents for her. I start to wonder what my stuff represents for me and why having things can hold such power over us.
Is it true that we own our things or do they really own us? I live fairly simply and would like to believe mine don’t, but now I am not so sure…
I would love to hear your thoughts on this subject that is very present for me. You can share by adding a comment to this post.