The Penultimate Downsize (Soldiers of Fortune)

7/30/10 Franklin Mint Soldiers of the World's Greatest Armies set of fifty pewter figurines, sold on eBay for $270

This downsize is perfect for the penultimate post. With 363 days behind me and only one to go, getting rid of this collection of figurines really highlights so much of what this challenge has been about. Here's why:

1) This was unique. Fifty pewter soldiers, representing armies from around the world and across multiple millennia. It was issued by the Franklin Mint and released, one figure at a time, over four years. A Google search did not turn up another single collection. Rare, indeed. Ask yourself: How easy is it to downsize something that uncommon?

2) This was valuable. My grandmother bought this back in 1980, and she managed to save the individual receipts from all but six of the figures. Each receipt showed the purchase price of each soldier: $23.50. That adds up to $1,175, not counting tax or shipping & handling. And those are in 1980 dollars. A potential one-of-a-kind collection that was bought for over a grand thirty years ago. Can you say "college fund"? Ask yourself: How easy it is to downsize something that valuable?

3) This was a gift. For reasons that are still murky, my grandmother bought this collection for me before I even hit my teens. Regardless of her motivations, I am saddled with the fact that it was a heart-felt gift. She bought it for me with the belief that I would cherish it forever. Oh, the guilt. Ask yourself: How easy it is to downsize something that someone gave you with such love?

4) This was a challenge to get rid of. When we have something of value, even if we don't want it, we feel invested in getting fair compensation for it. Sure, Nanna shelled out over a thousand for this, but how the heck could I find someone else willing to pay that king of bling for it? Putting it all up on eBay, with pictures, shipping costs, and enticing descriptions was a time-suck during a rather busy month. Not to mention that packing and shipping the figures, complete with glass-front display case, was a logistical nightmare. Ask yourself: How easy is it to do the work of this downsize?

This represents the Downsize Paradox. Given all of the above, the soldier set was absolutely ridiculous for me to keep, yet virtually impossible for me to part with.

But, here we are, just over twenty-four hours from fulfilling the challenge. Three hundred sixty-five consecutive days of setting things free. The whole point of this past year (or at least one darn good point) is that we MUST let go of those things that scream, "Never give me up!"

It's unique? Valuable? A heart-felt gift? A hassle to sell? It's just wrong to let it go?

That's why it has to be downsized.

In the end, I entered a Zen state, posted the collection as an auction on eBay starting at ninety-nine cents -- yes, Dear Readers, the bidding began at less than a dollar-- and felt at peace.

In the words of Bill Murry in the classic film Meatballs, "It just doesn't matter, it just doesn't matter!"

The collection sold to a guy in New York State for $270. ($300 if you include shipping. No, despite all I've learned, I never solved the problem with eBay).

As it all comes to a close, let's recap this symbolic downsize: I gave up an heirloom, lost a whole lot of money, forsook my grandmother's wishes, and wasted a lot of time and energy doing it all.

That's what I call a successful downsize.

It just doesn't matter.