A certain mood strikes me on a regular basis. I start scanning the house for things I no longer want. I check my closet for a nubby sweater or the basement for a dusty decoration. I put it in the Goodwill closet.
Giving it away feels good. Not the “giving” part, but the “away” part. Proving my detachment. If I can choose to relieve myself of things I am attached to now, perhaps that will ease the transition when something is ripped from my hands. Something or someone.