Monday Musings: Cluttered Lives

I have been trying for months (years, actually) to get rid of some of the extra things that have accumulated over the years. Today TEN boxes left the house. Most were “book size” boxes, the fairly small ones from U-Haul. One box held the old blender, another had a wok, there were clothes, a few books, some toys…

Boxes waiting for pickup

The office still has too much in it, but as you can see from the two pictures below, some of it is empty boxes (some is packing material). Before the boxes in the above picture went out… there was NO clear path to the tall bookshelf! Now I can get all the way there again.

With ten boxes already removed...

Many empty boxes removed, still 2/3 to sort through!

It’s a start. But… where did it all come from?

Some of the boxes hold old computer parts (Tom), some of them hold old kid memories (boys, and me), some of them hold materials from grad school, student teaching and left-overs from sewing/knitting/crochet projects (definitely me). It has taken four years to fill the office… AND a storage locker that is twice as big as the office (which is, admittedly, a small room). The tendency I have to hold on to “things” I believe comes from a history of moving. Never knowing what will be there at the next place, you hang on to things. Having had to leave things behind many times it’s hard to leave them now. Who knows when you might need this? Or that?

And yet, when I have too much stuff, I can’t remember what I already have, where I might have put it (if I still have it), or how much is left. When I have too many projects (unfinished) it’s difficult to focus or concentrate.

Getting rid of some things frees me up to focus on what’s left.

At the same time, I come from a family that has roots — just not around here. The only connection I have to my heritage (especially now that my grandparents’ generation is passing on) is through the artifacts I retain. A copy of my mother’s Master’s thesis. A doll given to my grandmother by her uncle, dolls given to my aunt by her grandparents. A piano. An encyclopedia from a dear, departed family friend. A set of Heinlein books given to me during high school. My children’s first baby blanket, dolls, favorite childhood books from several generations.

“Clutter” to someone else is not always clutter. But, as I let go of the things that really don’t matter, the things that do can shine.

Today, once I had a clear path to the bookcase, I put several binders of teaching materials on the top shelf. This is progress!

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