You Are The Creator of Your Own Space

Perhaps it’s the summer months, with the shedding of winter layers, which inspires me to shed unneeded layers within my closets and upon my shelves.  This is how I came to be inside my closet this morning:  I was having a clear-out. 

I do not hang onto things I do not need, whether it be clothing or otherwise.  I do not have boxes of school work produced by my children nor cupboards full of every-shaped pan and kitchen utensil.  I am not keeping furniture on the off-chance my kids will want it when they move away from home.  I don’t even keep cookbooks I never look at.  What I do keep are things that are seasonal, such as winter wear, Christmas decorations and canning supplies.  I admit to having a giant box of Legos but also admit they get played with often enough to warrant their storage. 

When my kids were small, I would proudly display their art, but they grew, and so did the art; there is no need to hang onto tiny handprints decorated like a turkey and the perfect score on a spelling quiz, saving them in a box for posterity.  We fool ourselves into believing we keep these things because our children will want them one day.  But, is this true?  Is it we who are trying to hang onto such precious times, ignoring those equally precious times we have in front of us now?  Do we store every little item in the hopes of hanging onto not the item itself, but the memory?  We complain of lack of space, creating our own discontentment and the desire for bigger, better, and ever more space; but, more space for what?   Do we continue to store memory upon memory, want upon want, making in darn near impossible to live and move in our houses right now?  “You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present.”

Today I was staring at a dress my mother purchased for me seven years ago.  I happily wore it many times but I haven’t done so in a while.  As soon as I removed the dress from the closet I knew it wasn’t going back in.  I even tried it on today, laughing at the fact that I am now flexible enough to zip it up without assistance, something I couldn’t do when I first got it.  Even so, it isn’t a dress I would wear anymore.  It may have been the last dress she ever bought me, but hanging onto it would only weigh me down.  Instead of the dress taking up space in my closet, and even my heart, I neatly folded it and added it to the donation pile.  It doesn’t mean I love my mother any less or her memory is somehow diminished; I will always miss her regardless of what hangs in my closet or is stacked upon my shelves. 

I suppose I am rather philosophical about such things.  I hear my dear friends speak of how much “stuff” or “junk” is stored within their homes and how much they wish they had more space for the actual living of their lives, but unwilling to let go of that unused and unneeded clutter.  We’re so addicted to the accumulation of things and the emotional attachment to those things that we can’t seem to say enough already.  Short of buying a bigger house (you'd need to move all that junk) the only way you'll get more space is to create it yourself.  I challenge you to rid yourself of at least on box of junk.  Just do it, one box, one drawer or one cupboard.  Clear it out, all the way, and don't redistribute the junk somewhere else in the house.  Let it go!  The first one is always the most difficult, but it gets easier and you'll feel it.