The Transfer Station

The Transfer Station

 

Today I went to the Transfer Station. Lovingly known as the 'dump' or 'swap stop'. I was there to transfer...... Leaving stuff that I am not using with the hope that someone would gleefully grab it up and put it to use. Continuing the cycle of energy that has been stuck (oh so long) in my basement.

 

Yes, moving is giving me a great time to transfer that stuck energy.  Most of my furniture went to Acton Household Goods Recycling Ministry. (www.hgrm.org) Families rebuilding after domestic violence or other crisis may have a dining room table, or living room chair, or a bookcase that came from me. It will be one nice thing in their hard world. The interesting thing is how it changes me. Giving all this stuff away to people who want and need it creates an inner well of good energy. I feel happy thinking about that table in someone's home. Maybe one small semblance of normalcy in a ragged life. I smile.

 

This is in sharp contrast to my emotional response to the many treasures I have in my storage locker. Heavy feelings emerge with the thought of all that stuff. Useful, wonderful, dormant. That's no way to live, is it?

 

At the Transfer Station, I've left boxes of crafts, sporting goods, exercise things, furniture. And it disappears. I sometimes go back with a second load and much of the first load has been picked up already. It has a home. With someone who wants it. I feel good about that.

 

One day, I took a big box of candle making supplies:  wax, wicks, molds, book, the whole nine yards.  A woman walked by and I said "It's candle making supplies." She said "OH! I was going to make candles with my daughter!". I replied "Well, there you go. It's just about everything you need to get started."  She took the box and walked away delighted. And I walked away delighted too. I recalled making candles with my daughter, and knew that this pleasure would transfer along into another life. It was like Christmas! That wonderful experience of just giving... no expectation, no keeping track, no response needed... just giving and relishing the fact that joy has been shared.

 

And, while I think of it, isn't Life just a huge Transfer Station? All the time, we're transferrinig. Exchanging cells, germs, energy, and attitudes with everyone we intersect. Usually unaware and mindless transfers:   a moan or groan, a smile.  Sometimes we're only too aware of the exchange:  shouting, swearing, gesturing, and traffic accidents. But, I'd guess most of our transfers are mindless and lost in the static of life. But they still get picked up. Each transfer has an effect. Somebody picks up the burden of your moaning. Maybe your smile lightened someone's day. And the residue stays with us... Sharing the smile creates more 'smiliness' inside. Sharing the moan... well, it's 'moaney' and tiring, and kind of heavy. Isn't it?

 

With each transfer we make a difference. We can choose what goods we share and exchange:  tables, chairs, smiles, respect, tolerance, patience. And in the process of giving that stuff away, we find that we feel better, lighter, happier. It's a very peculiar math.... Giving things away you are left with so much more.