Before we got married, my husband and I took a premarital class where we were taught a lesson about making space for all of the important stuff. There was a vase and some rocks of various sizes and sand to fill it. If you’ve ever seen this demonstration before, you know that first they start with the sand. While the presenter pours the sand in the vase they say things like, “this represents work, taking the dog for a walk, cooking dinner, paying the bills, washing the dishes and all of the busy stuff in life that has to get done” then the smaller rocks that will fit inside more easily are put on top of the sand while the presenter says “this is the stuff that you put off unless you have time, like going for a walk, meeting a friend for lunch, or taking a yoga class.” Finally, the largest rocks are identified as the truly important stuff, like telling people you appreciate them, making love, celebrating each other, and making time to be with the people that matter to you. Of course the largest rocks don’t fit. The jar is emptied and the demonstration begins again this time with the large rocks first, the smaller rocks filling the spaces between them and the sand seeping through the spaces between the rocks. The presenter then tells you, “if you make room for the big stuff first, there will be room for the rest.”
Recently we’ve found the exact opposite applies to purging our stuff before a big move. You rule out the big things first and whittle your way down to those kitchen gadgets and extra dog leashes to fit in your vases and stuff in the car.
The first thing we sold once we decided we were moving to Oregon was our truck. Followed by the pool table. Which was followed by an armoire. Now we’re trying to decide if we need to take our bed or if two hammocks will do. (Oh, it should be mentioned I find my two person hammock so much more comfortable than our bed and sleep like a baby in that thing!) Next up is the formal dining room set and our guest bed. We barely used this stuff while we lived in our house, it is silly to pay to move it to a new place where we will barely use it all over again.
The big stuff becomes the little stuff and the little stuff becomes the important stuff. True to moving, and to marriage.