On a consistent basis, closets, drawers, the attic, every nook, and cranny is scoured for items to donate. The process eliminates clutter and temporarily pacifies my acute OCD personality.
Delicate blouses, sporty tops, jeans, slacks, and shoes await selection. With the moment of “get real” upon me, if a garment refuses to flatter and can’t be returned, into the giveaway pile it goes.
How did the fit and style look so appealing in the store, but now appear so matronly?
Pieces that for whatever reason hover on a hanger for more than one year, they too fly through the air and plop upon the jumble. At times, an internal battle ensues as a color or pattern beckons me to “hang on a while longer.”
In this, do I or don’t I mode, I must be honest with myself. Will this fabric touch my body again? Mm, probably, not. Plunk!
A similar technique transpires when rationalizing over jewelry, books, household goods. Name it, almost everything in this home is up for consideration, but not my man, as this time around, I have a keeper.
The frequent purges cleanse my being, and the bags, sometimes truckloads of the discarded, gently used, are delivered as gifts to the less fortunate.
The all-encompassing need for organization, to make sure everything is, just so, achieved, and my lungs rise and fall with peace and calm.
At the time of releasing the dispossessed to an awaiting hand, the nirvana-like mental state blossoms as my dark brown; I’m happy to do this, eyes gaze upon an appreciative smile.
A new gift, old, expensive, inexpensive, no cost, it doesn’t matter. A small flower bud placed in a hand can brighten one’s day. A simple hug, understanding words, a compliment, however brief, all lift the spirit. The act of offering kindness yields a gamut of satisfying emotions to both the giver and receiver.
The positivity gained by contributing to another, whether physically, financially, or emotionally is the sugar on the cookie, and the sweetness tickles and delights.
An affection is born from such acts, and my hope is this graciousness percolates beyond the donor and recipient. May a flood of affirming forces surge through all humanity on a swell of pay it forward.
An axiom exists, “Give until it hurts.” To date, no pain from what I’ve gifted. To give begets astounding compensation in the light that emanates from each soul.
A guilty confession, giving was not always a part of my makeup, and this I blame on a deprived childhood. In early adulthood, the demise of a dear friendship catapulted me to a fresh perspective, and from that time forward, this woman has reaped indescribable rewards as a gamut of gifting gestures make my family, friends, and complete stranger’s days a bit better.
So, give what you can, but mostly of yourself, and see what you get in return.