Purging Sucks: Purged Living Part 1

Sometimes you move for a job and sometimes for personal reasons. Most of the time you purge some stuff (and it is OK), but sometimes you have to take the big step and do “the massive purge”. My good friend Bruce just went through this. Actually he moved out west to be closer to his aging mother and they both went through the purging process at the same time. I asked if he would share his candid thoughts on the matter and what it took out of him to prepare for small-space living.

Here is the thought. Purging sucks. Financially and mentally.

The act of downsizing or simplifying is called purging. And purging sucks. If anyone tries to tell you it is invigorating or cleansing they are full of it. Part 2 will talk about the aftermath of purging (let’s call it the positivity of simplifying). But this is about getting there. The mental and financial and physical gauntlet you need to run to be able to join the famous and spiritual tribe of simplifiers (I believe Crazy Horse was a simplicity guy himself. But they did call him crazy).

Let’s talk financially. My first inclination is to suggest if you want to downsize, simply pack everything up, put it in a trailer or van and then proceed to have the van “accidentally” drive over the closest cliff and be declared unsalvageable. Or rent a moving van and park it downtown with the keys in it. This way you will avoid the mental anguish of attacking each item one by one in the keep versus toss mental cage match. And, with insurance replacement value you get some cash to overcome the mental aspect. You collect fair value in insurance and you can physically just start over.

Yeah. I am kidding. But I am writing about money at the moment. Or at least what looks like money on paper when you list all the items you own in your space, closets, attic, garage, etc.

Downsizing preparation. Remember. Purging sucks. Be prepared. Financially it is a bottomless drain of which you will watch money value disappear down the sink to be dispersed somewhere into some financial cesspool where wasted dollars and cents slowly rot and the stench sours your nose.

When I moved out to the west coast to help my mother we ended up purging both our households at the same time. She sold her two bedroom, three story townhouse (after 22 years) and moved into a one bedroom, two room apartment in a senior complex (yup. The mental aspect may outstrip the financial on that one).

Me? I went from a three bedroom house of things down to a studio apartment. Let me give you a financial example to prepare you. I went from around a $75-80,000 value in things on my homeowners insurance to maybe a $4,000 check after selling the stuff. The upside is that my replacement insurance is a lot cheaper now. Yeah. On paper your net worth takes a pretty big hit.

Mom? Well how do you put a dollar value on the wedding gift silver set? (eBay and consignment stores can do that).

Dollars and cents wise it gets painful to even write this, describing either myself or my mother’s situation. But it helped that we did it at the same time. And interestingly there was a reverse relationship that kind made the mutual purging palatable. Because she sold her house in less than a week, financially it became easier to swallow “things” slipping out of her home and the loss of ownership to the tune of small amounts of cash. While I was tempted to drain a bottle of Jack every time I thought of the dollars and cents.

Emotionally it is difficult to compare my loss of ownership of that CD with the song that reminded me of great times in the bar with great high school friends in Vermont … to the loss of my mother’s mother’s (my grandmother to you who don’t want to draw a diagram) best plate set. Or something my father gave my mother years ago.

Sure I lost things that were important to me (my 3000 CD collection and half my library of books). But my mother was losing memories. She hung tough. There were certainly some really tough days. I spent a lot of time on the phone with my sister talking about how to help her through it.

Think of purging as running a financial and mental gauntlet. (definition: a form of physical punishment wherein a man is compelled to run between two rows—a gauntlet—of soldiers who strike him as he passes.)

The journey sucks but it is the destination that matters. Part 2 of Purging showcases the destination. But the only way, and let me repeat that, the only way you can make it through the actual purging is to keep the destination (a simpler space and life) in clear site. Trust me. Your eyesight gets a little fuzzy (possibly clouded in pain) every once in awhile during the process, but focus on the destination and as you get closer to the end of the gauntlet you start seeing it a little more clearly and it seems like a huge light of hope at the end of the tunnel.

Do I regret going through purging? Nope. It did make me realize some of the stupid, nonsensical purchases I made over the years. And while it was painful to release some of those things, in the end, these things didn’t matter because I like the destination I reached. It is a nice spot. And I think more people should visit it.

Read More: The Riches of Purging: Purged Living Part 2 and Part 3: Benefits of Studio Living

About the author:
Bruce is a collector of moments and thankfully has a good memory. Lots of travel and lots of jobs and lots of interesting interactions with a variety of people have created some great life lessons and some funny experiences. And he likes to write about these things so other people can share in what he has seen and learned. Oh. And he always has an opinion. For more on Bruce visit: www.brucemctague.com