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Years ago I was on a trip in North Carolina and came across a flea market of sorts and purchased some lovely old teacups. Over time I acquired more random teacups, plates and bowls. They were all of different styles and had only in common that I thought they were cute and they were manufactured before I was born.
The pieces left me through a crazed purge of my belongings before I packed up and moved across country for graduate school. But I hung on to the memories and became determined to re-acquire reasonable facsimiles of that pottery. Not because I needed it. Not because I knew anything about what I had. But because I liked how I felt when I bought that stuff and the lifestyle I had then.
Or, at least I know that now. For years I trolled eBay, bought collector's guide books and signed up for educational newsletters looking for just the right depression glass (Anchor Hocking marigold or maybe peach luster and grateful that it wasn't jadeite that caught my fancy since Martha Stewart popularized it and drove up prices). I would try to study and learn enough about antiques so that I could one day go antiquing and spot that fabulous bargain or at least not get taken and build an enviable collection of stuff to look at but not actually use. Eventually my obsession subsided and I stopped hunting for things I was never going to buy.
I have noticed that since the recent economic downturn, companies and organizations I haven't heard from in years or decades have managed to track me down and have requested permission to send me email (gotta look for every possible customer in all the nooks and crannies available). Lots and lots of email. One of those emails is from a company that is a renowned source of information about antiques and collectibles. I allowed them to email me. After a couple of views, week after week I would delete the weekly newsletters unread.
Those newsletters were for not even an old me but a version of self I thought someday I might become ten years ago. Finally I unsubscribed and let go.
Letting go of that not-even-idealized but certainly no longer useful self-image is part of clearing out the clutter. I am accepting where I am in my life now and it doesn't include pretty yellow-gold teacups that I would never drink out of. Perhaps one day in the future I will collect but I am also learning to let go by trusting that whatever I need in the future will be available to me. I am not lacking for information or ability to find what I need, thank the gods of Google.
Being comfortable with who I am now, not holding on to an idea of who I think I might be someday, trusting that I am not in lack and that I have everything I need are not just keys to getting rid of clutter (both physical and electronic) but are fantastic tools to move toward fearlessness and freedom.
How do you kick the clutter of concepts and ideals that no longer serve you (or maybe never did) to the curb?
Related Reading:
The Jamisonian: Goodbye My Old Self
I don’t like this anymore than the next lady. But a chapter closes and a new weird, solitary one begins. It’s hard and uncomfortable and it’s important to grieve. I’m totally devastated that a certain part of my youth that I so enjoyed is gone. Sure—I admit, if I could go on like that forever (as I always thought I could), it would be wonderful. But its officially over. I have to hand in my pass… and it sucks.
The good news is, I have no idea what lies ahead. I am transitioning—acknowledging that a familiar, loved skin is being shed and unsure of what is to become of me. It’s terrifying… and exhilarating at the same time.
Michelle at Organized Clutter: Just As I Am
This reflects my consistent inability to stay in the moment. I’m always a few steps ahead, to the career, the love, the vacation, the success, the serenity, or the wisdom I will have “one day.” Shortly after I picture that imaginary future, all the things I have to do to get there pop into my head. The moment is interrupted by a barrage of things I need to do. I’ll have to write this many songs and meet this many people and go to this many places and wear these
