I have a running vest I love, partly because it’s cute, but mostly because I splurged to buy it which I rarely ever do.
Clothes aren’t my thing.
- I don’t have the fashion gene, which I learned after watching my children, one of whom obviously has it and the rest of whom just as emphatically don’t.
- I’m truly a terrible shopper.
- I don’t like spending money. Except on books. I spend money on books. And cheese. Books and cheese. And beer. Books, cheese and beer. That’s all I need. Unlimited books, cheese and beer, and I’ll happily run around naked for the rest of my life.
I mean, I want to look good. Sort of. Not to the point that I’m willing to inject my face with Botox or, you know, stop eating cheese. Although I’m just fine with those of you who do those things because MORE CHEESE and WRINKLES for ME. Yippee! And, to be honest, that whole I-don’t-do-Botox thing is way, WAY more about how much it costs than about not wanting to inject poison into my face or not wanting to participate in unreasonable standards of youth in women. I wish that was why, but really I just need the money for cheese.
Do you hear what I’m saying about cheese? Praise Cheeses.
My point is, I want to look OK. Semi-fashionable. Not Awful. Sort of Target-Chic-meets-Pajamas and willing to picket on behalf of yoga pants as legitimate public daywear.
But every once in a while, I splurge on something to wear. Something that’s not from the sale section of Ross Dress for Less or 2 for $12 at Target. And when I do, the purchase must meet certain criteria lest the Guilt of Money Spent overwhelm me. It must be something I’ll wear often. It must be something “classic” with clean lines. And it must be in either a neutral color or a color I wear often so it will pair with other things I own.
My Nike running vest was a splurge. $100. Black. Snug and loose in all the right places. Somehow both comfortable and fitted. Ideal for running in Oregon.
And it never worked for me. Not ever. No matter how many times I tried it.
It turns out, I don’t like to be too warm when I run. I’d rather run in my crappy cotton t-shirts, which is exactly what they say not to do because cotton doesn’t wick right and it can cause chafing, and chafing, as we’ve previously discussed, is no joke.
So I did what any reasonable person would do when she finds herself saddled with something that doesn’t work: I held onto it, hoping things would magically change.
I held onto it for years, letting it collect dust in my closet and taking it out from time to time to try again, sure this time it would be fabulous and I’d be glad I wisely clung to it.
And because it should work.
Good things. Classics. Things that work really well for other people and look great. Things I keep in my repertoire because they’re comfortable, even when there’s a persistent whisper that something’s not working… and a hint that even the classics need to be evaluated from time to time… and an ongoing suspicion that I might want to consider whether I need to be brave and face some changes. That I may need to purge the things collecting dust in the closet and make room for things that will work better, that will be useable, that will be sources of Light and Life and not guilt or angst.
It’s so much easier sometimes to just hang onto the things I don’t need, you know? And then suffocate under the pile of them.
But I’m in a process right now of purging – 40 Days of Lent: 15 Minute Projects – because I’ve grown tired of the lack of breath that comes from Too Much Stuff, and it turns out I’d rather be breathless from the effort of doing something about it.
And so I sighed a big sigh and got rid of the Nike running vest this week.
I gave it to a friend who – get this – is USING it. For RUNNING. REGULARLY. That friend texted me to say thanks and that she loves it. Which made me really happy. And also made me feel like I should’ve unloaded this a long, LONG time ago.
If you’re joining us for 40 Days of Lent: 15 Minute Projects, today we’re – yep, you guessed it –
Giving Away Something We’ve Hung Onto But Don’t Need.
This one may be HARD. It may take more than 15 minutes to talk yourself through it. That’s OK. It’s a fine way to use your 15 minutes, and it’s good practice to take the time to talk ourselves through releasing the things we don’t need.
And Congrats to Alyson Engelbrecht who tackled Day 13: A Surface.
Here’s Alyson’s Before:
And here’s Alyson’s After:
Environmental Living Tip of the Day
Since I’m patently Not Qualified to offer environmental living tips, I’ve asked my friend Leslie to join us here periodically during our 40 Days of Lent: 15 Minute Projects to offer tips, tricks and simple solutions to treat the earth better.
My Question: I’m trying to reduce food waste at our house, so I need an easy and fast way to deal with scraps. What’s the EASIEST and FASTEST way to set up a compost bin and how much time does it take to maintain?
Leslie’s Answer: Some people don’t even use a bin for compost; they just have a pile in the corner of their yard. That’s the easiest and fastest way to start. Keep a compost bucket with a lid on your counter or under your kitchen sink so you can gather scraps as you cook and eat. I like the stainless steel ones that have a filter to block the odor, which you can buy at places like Target for around $25, but you can use anything with a lid. Roughly, you want 1/3 green (grass clippings, plants), 1/3 brown (paper bags, newspaper, cardboard) and 1/3 food scraps (nothing with protein – no cheese, meat, etc.) A compost pile takes minimal time depending on how good you want your dirt. In the summer you should “turn” the pile every few weeks. You can also purchase a compost bin for as little as $50, or, if you have a handy person in your house, it’s a pretty quick project to slap 4 pieces of wood together.
Leslie Hodgdon Murray is a Quaker pastor who is pursuing her Master’s of Divinity with an emphasis in Christian Earthkeeping. Her passion in life is helping people reduce waste, simplify life and reduce their ecological footprint.
P.S. If you’re giving something away, I would LOVE to hear what it is and why you’ve a) hung onto it, and b) decided to let it go.
“Green Leaf Lamp” image credit Meawpong3405 via freedigitalimages.net