Note: This is a guest post by Rose Lounsbury.
I’m not a relationship expert. I got lucky in love, married for nearly 17 years to my hometown sweetheart. But I do know something about certain kinds of relationships: the kinds we develop with stuff.
Some stuff is easy to part with. Freebies, for example. These are the one-night stands of stuff. That key chain from your insurance agent? You can probably toss that sucker in the trash with only a twinge of sweet regret. (It was a moment of madness when you plucked it from the dish in his office, after all.)
But other items give us pause. These are the kinds of items we’ve developed long relationships with. Items like… my piano.
I had my piano for years. My parents had it before me, and my grandparents before them. The story goes that my grandfather bought the piano for $50 from my mom’s college sorority house when they upgraded their piano in the 1960s. (Just imagine being the guy turned down by an entire houseful of sorority sisters, ouch!)
The piano was a nice guy, humble, no frills. But dang, was he big and heavy! I let him hang around my house for about a decade. I knew things weren’t working out for us, but I just couldn’t bring myself to have that awkward, “It’s not you, it’s me” conversation.
Why? Two big reasons:
Reason #1: I can play the piano
The key word here is can. As Yoda would say, Do or do not, there is no can. (That quote may not be exactly right, but I earned major points from my husband for attempting to quote Star Wars.)
Yes, I can play this piano. But do I? Not so much. When faced with a moment of free time, I usually choose to go for a walk or read a book. We’re only given so much time in life and we get to choose how to spend that precious time. I don’t choose to play the piano. And that’s okay.
Reason #2: My kids might want to play the piano
The key word here is might. As every kid who ever took piano lessons would say, “But I don’t wanna practice!!” I have no guarantees that my kids will ever want to play the piano, and keeping it for that future possibility is like keeping a trapeze in my backyard in case one of them wants to become an acrobat. (Note: Given the suggestion that acrobatics is a future career possibility, I’m sure my kids would immediately commence high-pressure trapeze requests, so let’s keep this on the down-low.)
To combat this “What if…?” fear, I nudge budding musicians in my household toward trumpets, violins, and the like. All these instruments are portable yet still quench the musical thirst. And if my kids ever insist on playing the piano, I will count on good karma to bring another free piano into my path.
Speaking of good karma…
It was a fateful Tuesday afternoon. I took a deep breath, snapped a picture of the piano, and posted it for free on a local buy/sell/trade Facebook group. Within 10 minutes, one lucky lady had herself a new piano to love, and I began imagining more open space in my living room.
I remember the day the piano movers came to part us forever. I watched them carefully carry him down the front steps toward the truck. I felt my heart squeeze as they loaded him onto the lift, knowing that the moment he disappeared into that truck bed, I would never see him again.
I almost ran outside and breathlessly yelled, “Wait! I’ve changed my mind! Let’s stay together!”
But this wasn’t a romantic movie. It wasn’t raining. There was no orchestra playing an emotional soundtrack.
It was time for us to go our separate ways.
At first, I struggled with the urge to rebound. The space in my living room looked so bare! If you’ve ever gotten out of a long relationship, you know what I mean. I need something, anything, to fill this empty space! I considered cruising the scene at local piano bars or seeking lonely pianos online, (Pianomatch.com, anyone?)
But I stayed true to my minimalist ideals and allowed the space to just be. After a while, it didn’t seem so empty. Soon after that, I started to like it.
I was free.
Is there a stuff relationship in your life that is going nowhere? Are you holding on to things that no longer reflect how you choose to spend your time? Are you keeping things because you hope they will become useful in the future?
We all know this, but it bears repeating:
We do not live in the past or the future. We live now.
I urge you…
Let go of stuff relationships that are holding you back from enjoying the present moments of your life.
Take the plunge, make a clean break, and open up to the beautiful possibilities of open space.
***
Rose Lounsbury is a simplicity coach, author, speaker, and still-sane triplet mama who helps busy people live happier lives by owning less stuff. You can read more of her words on minimalism, simplicity, and intentional living at roselounsbury.com or get to know her on Instagram, Facebook, and LinkedIn.
Kay says
I could have written this piece! I was just looking at our piano a couple days ago and thinking that maybe it is time to send it along to someone who would make good use of it. There isn’t any sentimental value to it because we bought it to replace the piano I’d had in my childhood that wasn’t in good shape anymore. I have kept it because, I too, can play it but never do. I am not sure I’m quite ready to let it go, but I think I’m going to set a deadline for myself to decide and if I haven’t started playing it again in that amount of time, it is going to find a new home.
Jerre Ferns says
I forwarded this to my sister who is currently hoarding the piano my mother bought for me in 1952. No one has played it in 30+ years! Perhaps this will give her permission to let go.
Jerre Ferns says
I forwarded this to my sister who is currently hoarding the piano my mother bought for me in 1952. No one has played it in 30+ years! Perhaps this will give her permission to let go. I donated my mom’s sewing machine with beautiful cabinet after several years of angst. She’s been gone 50 years but I still remember her lovingly running her hands over the machine. She was so proud of it and made my prom dresses and other things. It was very hard to let it go but I still have the memories.
Christine Peterson says
I recently sold the keyboard I paid $500 to a 10-year old for $50. He bought it with his own money. His mom sent me a picture of him sitting down to play it. Made my heart sing. Nice article.
Elizabeth Frye says
Thank you for the cute and entertaining article. I love Rose’s humorous writing style.
We are about to “Upsize” to a larger home in preparation for an elder family member to move in with us. I’m trying to find the balance of acquiring what we need to make the space functional, but also using the move as an opportunity to break up with items which will not be useful moving forward.
In the process of furnishing the new house I was gifted a couch that has been in my family for about 70 years. It is nice to know that for a while we can care for and use this item and I hope when we are ready to downsize again to have another family member adopt this ginormous couch from my great grandmother’s home.
Debbie Mallette says
This is an excellent article! We can all relate to holding on to an item for all the wrong reasons. Very well written and insightful. Thank you very much!
Pauline Ince says
I let my piano go to my step daughter whose son wanted to learn to play. My late husband used to play every day, and it took three years before I could bring myself to part with it. It was sad to see his vmuch loved instrument leave our home, but I can still visit it! Lovely to know that my grandson is making good use of it. Now I need to think about the stool, which my husband used as well as my late father before him and holds many memories……….
Naomi says
If you could please give great ideas for how to get rid of your partners piano that would be so great. It has a similar, emotional back story. Barely used. *sigh
Great article though. I’ll take a fresh look at some of the things I’m hanging onto for emotion reasons.
Thanks
Iqbal says
This post is one of the best posts I have ever read and I hope a lot of people read it.
I feel relate to it. Can and might, yes these 2 words.
Several years ago I broke up with some action figures such as model kit that “I can build”, some computer game “I can play”, some music files “I can listen”, and several things that I “can” and “might”.
Ceci says
Oh my gosh, how your article resonates with me. After moving my beloved baby grand seven times — sometimes in and out of seemingly impossible floor plans — I finally relinquished this piano relationship two moves ago. It was a sad day, in spite of knowing that it was absorbed into a piano cocktail bar and would be played by untold and unknown musicians who put out their respective hats as they played Agnes. This is the name that the piano bar owner dubbed my beloved, in honor of my mother, a pianist who was a musician in just such an establishment.
I still miss Agnes, although my fiddles and mandolins (the good friends that they are) were there for me throughout the decision to breakup. There are times when I wish I could run my hands over her keys and hear that one plunk-y key in the upper register. Am I glad that she is gone and being played by others? Yes. Was it the right decision? Yes. As I prepare to move again this next spring, I can only think of how happy the movers will be to know that Agnes has left the building.
Thank you for your lovely article. You revived an breakup that was necessary at the time and is still a tiny bit bittersweet today.