I'd been sniveling, and dragging my feet as I've sorted through my storage unit multiple times over the past few months.
My initial intention to "sell everything that isn't nailed down" disappeared quickly in the face of the ragdoll I've had since I was 5, my Grandmother's telephone table, and my Pic n Sav Christmas tree from my first apartment. (The lights still work!!!)
Dejected, I packed these items back in the box and returned it to the Keep pile.
Basically, the only things I now have to sell are 10 unmatched dishes, 9 books, 8 pieces of random sewing material, 7 DVDs, 6 kitchen containers, 5 blankets, 4 electronic items, 3 blouses, 2 purses and 1 never used guitar book complete with CD.
This does not a garage sale make...
So.
I woke up and realized this experience needed a new story.
I'd been gnashing my teeth over the fact that I am not currently residing in a permanent space to store my stuff. But what I needed to be doing is transforming the past into my exciting future.
Try these sentences out loud and hear which one feels more energizing.
1. "Wow. I have to sell my stuff because my plan didn't work. Waaah."
2. "Wow. I have a lot of great inventory. It's going to fun learning how to be a retail slut."
Okay.
Maybe you have an aversion to the word retail.
But telling a new story about an experience you're having anyway releases resistance and promotes acceptance. Acceptance of disappointment, acceptance of change, acceptance of joy.
Pic n Sav tree anyone?
It includes decorations and I'm selling it, cheap.
