As I continue the process of de-junking I’m beginning to sell (and give away) my things. I’ve found it interesting that more often than not, reducing the amount of things that I own gives me a sort of euphoric high. This is due in part to the fact that each item I rid myself of takes me one step closer to leaving. However there is more to it than that.
I also think that offloading my junk is, on some level, allowing me a form repentance for becoming the stereotypical, materialistic consumerist that is so prevalent in our society today. My apologies if I sound preachy, that is not at all my intention; by all means go and buy your iPods. For me however, I had hoped to see myself in a different light. There is no doubt by the amount of garbage I have collected that I am indeed a brain-washed consumer. My forced recognition of this is exactly why I am now enjoying shedding my possessions. However there are those few things that I find myself sad to part with.
Tonight I loaded up my weight bench & all my weights into a friends truck. 2 1/2 years ago I stopped weight lifting due to health issues. A little over a year ago I got clearance from my doctor to get back to lifting, however I never did for a variety of reasons (reasons, or excuses?). But often times I would go into my weight room, put on the gloves, lay down on the bench and put my hands on the bar. I would usually do a quick set, maybe two. I told myself that I wouldn’t start up a full routine until I could truly devote the time to do it right. However with the upcoming move, that just never happened. Then with the decision to de-junk it became apparent that it wouldn’t happen again for quite some time.
We all have different activities that, for whatever reason, fit us very well. Weight lifting was one of those activities for me. Beneath the weights I found a catharsis for the stress of daily life. In learning proper form, and ensuring that I retained it, I found both control and harmony. After especially tough workouts, when I was thoroughly sore the next day, every movement brought with it a sensation that made me feel very much alive. In those post-workout minutes when my heart was still pumping, when I continued to sweat as my body tried to lower my body temperature, when my muscles were still engorged with blood I felt like I had just descended from Olympus.
I found many benefits in weight lifting, physical, mental, and emotional. I’m sad to see the bench go.



