Things are not austerely part of the broad binary definition of life; viz., things and thoughts (or if you prefer a more spiritual rendition, the physical and the metaphysical or the empirical and the transcendental). Certainly the division between corporeal and incorporeal is inarguable but I find the significance of each can be equally stirring. Downsizing is one of the accidents of aging. In retrospect – having undertaken the enterprise when I retired in 2014 – the process was both uninhibited and manifestly relieving.  There is nothing we abandoned to the auctioneer that we regret having lost. The synthesis of both commodity and introspection is oddly similar. Old gives way to new; sediments fall, vapours arise. Draff and grouts give way to clarity and refinement. That’s the good news – I am passionate about what remains after the scourge; the blacksnake is a godsend.

The most obvious consequence of the housekeeping that is downsizing is the palatability of doing so.  It is a welcome transition. The immediate upshot is the immeasurable acceptability of the cleansing process; and, the ineluctable conclusion that we collected far more than required. The zeal which normally accompanies retail transactions is a mighty persuasion combining both the real and the imagined. Like poetic passion among star-crossed lovers the allure of the unfolding physical world is initially impossible to resist yet fraught with mistaken urgency, tawdry decision and uncanny desire. Through this natural procedure we have crystallized things, sugar-coating the remaining definition.

Though our fortuitous evolution may mistakenly be regarded as testament to innate brilliance I feel however that the progress is more organic than anything. We all grow old; we all develop rarefaction; we all acquire a patina from life’s wear and tear. I find the forward movement is as a logical result accompanied by narrowness, a product of distillation and tolerability.

Everything about downsizing speaks to diminution; but with it there is the cognac that remains. And haven’t I a lingering memory of Cognac XO in Puerto Vallarta! Such is the spirit of the dark mahogany, the weight of the engraved brass paperweight, the silkiness of the millefiori, the historic dynamic of the antique map, the unparalleled vibrancy of the precious Persians, the intricacy of the sterling silver cherub, the warmth of the gold.