Packing
Up the Junk
“There
was so much stuff we never used and that was just taking up space. We vowed when
we started over, we’d replace only what we needed, and this time we’d do it
right. We’ve kept our promise: We don’t have much now, but what we have is
exactly what we want.”
Elaine
St. James (Living the Simple Life, p.148)
In St.
James’ book, Living the Simple Life, the quote above was from friends
whose home was destroyed in a natural disaster. With everything gone, they were
able to start over in ways that minimized their possessions. Most of us hopefully
will not live through such a catastrophic event, but we can still live simply.
I am in
the middle of the annual “clean out the basement” event. It seems a never-ending
chore, but truly, progress is being made. I am having some work done that has
provided the incentive to finish what I started decades ago. And I’m finding it
easier to let things go this time—to everything there is a season, right?
One
thing that helps me to let useful items go is knowing that I can take them to a
thrift store and someone else will benefit from them. Sometimes it feels a
little selfish, like transferring my “junk” to someone else just so they can
get rid of it instead of me. So be it. Whatever it takes to unload what is just
taking up space and will never be used again here.
As
always when I “clean out the basement” things happen on several levels. When I’m
wrestling with my own shadow (she’s a witch, let me tell you) and need to think
it through, cleaning out the basement is the vehicle. This week, as I packed up
the collection of a lifetime of memorabilia, I pulled out photo albums from my
childhood that came from Mother’s house. They were all smelly and moldy from sitting
in boxes, but the photos were still clear. I flipped through the pages, studying
all the people who helped form me into who I am now—whether for good or for
bad. Instead of quickly scanning the photos, I looked at the person or persons—what
does their body language tell me; what seems to be their emotional state; what
do I remember about them; what feelings do they arouse in me? For instance,
there’s one snapshot of my entire family, including grandparents, lined up in
front of my parent’s house. Everyone is looking rather grimly at the camera
except for me. I’m looking away from the whole clan and the camera. Then I
remember my sister once telling me, “You were always in your own little world.”
Perhaps the way I dealt with my family was to “look away;” to go away into my own
thoughts and withdraw from the drama.
This is what I mean by unearthing
the “junk” on a different level. Now I can ask myself, do I want to carry that
attitude forward, or pack it up and let it go? I can simplify my life by
dealing with things in the present moment rather than withdrawing and avoiding.
The
simplification of life makes sense on many levels. It helps us to get rid of
what is unneeded or even destructive to our wholeness. If it doesn’t serve a
purpose for you, then let it go. Unload all your non-essential baggage, whether
physical or emotional, and allow a clean sweep to clear things away. Transform
the space outside you and inside you into a sanctuary. Create an opening for
something new to come in. Give yourself room to breathe and simply be. The treasure
you’ll find is the joy of having exactly what you want and nothing more.
In
the Spirit,
Jane
1 comment:
I can see this photo in my mind's eye. Why was everyone so serious in old photos? I think instead of saying cheese they told people to practice The Look us southern women are so familiar with ;)
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