What Are You Bringing To The (Yard Sale) Table?

And we’re off…yard sale season is officially upon us! And of course I see it as a metaphor for some inspiration, isn’t everything? Just look around.While we view yard sales as venues for great finds and deals, they’re mostly full of someone else’s old stuff, and lest we forget, we have your own pile of old stuff back at home. And yet, who can resist a good one? Even when driving by a sale, I pause slightly as my neck stretches to catch a glimpse. I don’t want to miss out on the action.This past weekend I participated in one of those UBER-yard-sales at our local elementary school. It was a win-win for everyone – great location, lots of traffic, benefited the PTA, unloaded some of the aforementioned stuff, hung with some old peeps, enjoyed a warm sunny day outside with a good friend, got a bit sun-kissed (and ate lunch from a food truck).It got me thinking about how there truly is an art to “yard sale-ing.” All the “pros” show up early, peruse quickly and know what they are looking at. This time around my goal was simple – don’t bring anything home. Which also translates to – Note to Self: don’t run around and buy anyone else’s stuff while you are at it.There is a contagious wave of energy that wells up within you as you prep to participate in a yard sale. Visions of clearing out, creating space and cash begin to dance in your head. For months I have been on a quest to clear out my house as if I were moving. I am increasingly noticing how cluttered our lives are with things: things we don’t use, things that collect dust and for some reason we simply can’t part with.I also have an entire other level of sentimentality with yard sales. For years before I ever moved from the city to the mountains, I held yard sales with my friend Cindy. We spent the entire year talking about it in anticipation, saying things in the middle of the winter like - “save that in a box for the yard sale.” Out with the old, in with the new – it assuaged our guilt for perhaps overindulging in shopping. Cindy passed away unexpectedly 1 ½ years ago. I miss my friend and can never quite look at a yard sale the same way again. We always shared a few good laughs together in the midst of our sales, perusing each others table to determine who had the biggest clunker to sell. Last year, still raw from losing her – I just couldn’t bring myself to have one, but this year I was raring to go and as strange as it may seem, I felt she was with me.While rummaging through closets, drawers and boxes on a mission to gather my hot ticket sale items, I came across the little jewelry pouch that was given out at her funeral. Inside was a delicate little medal with the blessed Mother on it. At first I didn’t recognize it, as it had been tucked away in a drawer with my jewelry. But upon realizing what it was, I smiled knowing it was a little hello from her. Yeah girl, I’m gathering in my “stuff” to go, I said aloud as I placed the pouch back inside the drawer.Early the morning of the schoolyard sale, while the rest of my house slumbered, I pulled out of my driveway with my car chock full of treasures tucked within boxes and crates, and headed over to unpack. I thought of her again. Here I go, girl. Shortly after, while placing my wares upon the table to sell, out popped the small jewelry pouch with the medal. How did you get here? Oh, girl, you never could resist a good sale could you? She was still with me.Each yard sale tells its own story. Our “stuff” tells a story. At the end of the day, the one big-ticket item, with the highest price tag, remained. I was certain that would have sold. No one even attempted to bargain with me on it. Suddenly it hit me, I wasn’t bringing that back home to shove in the closet – I was going to give it away. It needed a new home. That one item was probably worth more than everything on my table combined, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t about the money. I made someone else’s day – and that made mine.An ode to yard sale tales – so many stories, so much stuff – so many opportunities to connect to the things that matter most to us. What does it stir up for you? Are you picking up on all the messages sprinkled around you? They are the gifts of the Universe star-dusted from angels above. Can you see them?