When I first moved back to my home sweet home state in March, it was after having been out of work via layoff for almost a year and a half. I was a little bit broke, and due to circumstances, couldn't afford to transport anything. But, I had an unbelievable living situation fall in my lap that I could not pass up. So I loaded my tiny little Mazda 3 down with whatever pomeranians and clothing and miscellaneouses could fit and drove on home. No furniture. No bed. No nothing. My dear, darling friends, Shara, Amanda, and TJ, met me at my new townhouse to help me clean and get settled. I sat in an overwhelmed heap in the middle of a room FULL of trashbags while my little busy bees buzzed all around me, cleaning and organizing and mother henning. I owe those girls. Huge. Were it not for them, I would undoubtedly STILL be sitting amongst those trash bags in a fetal position, trying to figure out just where to put everything considering the whole "no furniture" thing. Amanda and TJ loaned me an air mattress and sheets that I would end up sleeping on for a good 4 months. Some would call them friends. I call them angels. (OMG, can you believe I said that?!?! hahahahaha. My cheese-o-meter REFUSED to budge unless I typed it! Ha!Sorry! Live, laugh, love, and all that.)
Point: After living so sparse for a good block of time, it kind of frees the mind a bit. I've been unpacking and unpacking all of the stuff my parents brought me, and while there is a good bit of it that I intend to keep for want/need purposes, I realize how much of the stuff I "needed" is really just stuff. Something about the sentimental reasons I keep things goes by the wayside when I've lived without it for a significant amount of time. Or maybe it's just in the grand scheme of life, when you've been through the fire, it all of a sudden seems so trivial. The sentimentality behind it can remain, but the material thing is just that: material. Just because I'm getting rid of that glass dolphin (yes, I have a glass dolphin. Shut up, you know you do too.) that I've been hanging onto all this time, because ohmygosh, I got that from so-and-so that one time at that thing with those people, doesn't mean I'm garage sale-ing the memory, you know?
Wouldn't life be so much easier if I could just apply this thinking to all areas of life? I don't want that shirt anymore because it no longer fits or serves a purpose in my life. Can't I say the same thing for an unhappy memory or an unresolved hurt? I've been hurt. BAD. So have you. So what good does it do us to let ourselves feel that ache everytime a certain song comes on or a reminder pops up? There needs to come a point when the scar has formed just enough that I can choose to not wince when something hits it. How much of it is actual pain, and how much of it is just a habit? How much of it is the fact that I want to hold onto it because admitting it doesn't hurt as much means admitting that I'm letting go? Nobody likes to let go. Nobody wants to get rid of their crap that's buried deep in the recesses of home and heart. Because it becomes comfort. It becomes what we know. But what if we cleaned out our hearts/minds like we cleaned out a cluttered closet? What if we vacuumed and swept and Febrezed the heck out of our spirits so that anytime we open that door, we're bombarded with the scent of fresh and clean and airy?
Whew. That went down a totally different thought path than I was expecting. I planned to tell you all about my Electric Youth perfume (with the hot pink lighting bolt inside the bottle!)(!!!!), but instead we had therapy. What do you guys think? Do you have cluttered lives? Cluttered emotions?
Let's share a group hug!
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