Ever since I took possession of my 2007 Dutchmen T@B trailer barely two months ago, I’ve had an overwhelming desire to head off into the sunrise with it and my dog and my laptop.
But what about my stuff?
The process of downsizing had already begun, as it has for so many of my friends. I’ve been taking stuff to the Goodwill. I’ve been setting things out on the curb, and been delighted when those things vanish. There was the nice yellow bird feeder that was too much trouble to fill. There was the massive iron pan that was too heavy to carry. And the chair that I picked up from a curb a few years ago and then when I counted 17 chairs in my small home, realized that’s ridiculous. Let someone else feel the joy.
My travels in The Tiny have put the purging onto the fast track. I’m giving away clothes, and sending signals to friends and family that I don’t need more household stuff (unless it relates the T@B, of course).
Still, I am attached to my stuff. This red lamp is a case in point. I bought it for $20 at the local used furniture store and it had a white shade on it. They had just spray painted it red, and you can see if you look closely that perhaps they could have cleaned it better before adding paint. I got it home and thought: OMG! What a freaking ugly lamp. I placed it in the closet and wondered what I should do.
Sometime later, I realized that the red shade, which was unattractively placed on a different lamp, would match this red lamp. Duh. Now, it is real statement piece in my home. It’s stunning. Striking. Stupendous. How could I live without it? This lamp has so much meaning to me, mainly the principle that what I once thought was ugly is, with the right shade and in the right location, stunning.
Each item in my home is laden with such meaning. These are not just things. These are symbols of what makes my life meaningful. So if the things were gone, would I remember and live by the principles? Or would I forget who I am? Those are the questions. Those are the fears.
I’ve only been out twice in my T@B. The first time was a 2-day solo campout, and the second time was a week later for a 5-day outing, half with a friend and half solo. I have another campout planned for the T@B in two weeks with a friend and a husky dog group, and another 4-day outing with a different friend and her family for Memorial Day. And then there is July for a week or longer with a family member.
Each time I’ve been out in the T@B, I feel so good. So centered. So clear and focused. My soul craves the simplicity and challenge of a life on the road with my dog and The Tiny and my work that I can do remotely. Tears well up as I write this.
But what about this lamp? And what about the bowl of remotes next to it? There is my fake fireplace. And my TV. And my DVD player. And my sound bar. What would become of them?
My main goal for today is to stop thinking about all this and do my work. I have assignments due. I owe my client and their clients beautiful projects wrought whole from my heart and mind.
But the thought will wiggle in and I’ll try to let it come and go and not resist: What about this lamp?