I mentioned in yesterday’s post that I regretted some of my spending choices in the first year or so after Mr. Virgo died. I look back and wonder what on earth I was thinking. I was warned. I was also in a near emotional coma so maybe I can’t be blamed entirely, even though I am completely responsible. I didn’t take exorbitant trips. I didn’t fly to Europe or anything. But, there was still quite a lot of frivolous spending in an effort to escape my pain and loneliness.

Do I regret the sale of my house? Maybe a little but only because the mortgage was fairly reasonable. If I would have rented it out, the rent would have paid the mortgage payment with plenty left over to build up a home repair fund while supplying me with at least some gas money. That’s the downside…the regret. The upside is, I’m not in huge debt. That affordable mortgage wouldn’t have been paid off till I am 90 years old! I may never have been free. The house was 13 years old and starting to need work…a lot of work. Big ticket items like new appliances, paint inside and out, and new flooring were screaming to be done. The utilities were sometimes $400-500 a month between heating costs in the winter and summer irrigation. All in all, I really just miss my neighbors, my covered front porch and my gorgeous flower beds…even though it was getting increasingly expensive and exhausting to maintain those, as well.

Do I regret the drastic downsizing I did to squeeze myself into less than 200 square feet of living space? It has been two years now since I made the decision to sell out and downsize so I’ve created the following list.

Stuff I Regret Getting Rid Of:

• 1)

Yeah, I’m trying to think and I got nothin’. I don’t need half of what I DID keep so I still have purging to do. I’m lighter and more flexible now that I don’t have to provide a huge storage shed called a house. I don’t spend time cleaning and dusting. I don’t have to stay in one place just because it’s a king-sized pain in the butt to pack and move. And, I could have bought all that stuff three times over with what I’ve paid in the past to have it moved professionally. I miss the warm feeling it gave me to sit in my museum and see and touch all my lovelies, but just the feeling…not the stuff. I kept the items that were dearest to me. The second level attachments went to family where I can either ask for them back someday or at least see them when I visit. The third level attachments went to friends who loved them as I did. After that, it was all just stuff. This gives me peace and joy and a huge sense of relief.

I know this life is not for everyone. We all have a different level of attachment and love for our treasures. There is a sense of pride in home ownership and in having worked hard for the items that furnish it. The bottom line is this…you must do what you are comfortable with. I’m still looking at a more permanent tiny home as a base camp near family and possibly downsizing to a smaller camper for my adventures. I find I am less inclined to hook up this monstrosity I live in and haul it somewhere for just a weekend. That’s not really camping anyway. That’s more like moving your house and changing neighbors. I long for the spontaneous trips to the mountains that I made in my little 16′ camper.

I’m still a work in progress. I’m feeling my way through the darkness into the light. I’m getting there…I’m definitely getting there. It feels good to me to do it with less weight.

❤️

“So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.”

1 Corinthians 10:31 NIV