Clear it Out

I’m going though another of those periods that I like to refer to as the “white phase.” No, I’m not only eating white foods or wearing white clothing (please, that would last two seconds before I had food or debris stains everywhere). This is more of an “I-really-need-to-get-rid-of-all-my-old-stuff-and-start-over” kind of thought process.

I’ve done this before, of course. I just didn’t think that this would be hitting me again so quickly. Maybe it’s a procrastination tool? I have projects I should be working on, and by focusing on de-cluttering my space, I’m not focusing on the projects. At the same time, when my space is cluttered, my brain feels cluttered, and I’m less likely to focus anyway. Vicious circle.

Whatever the reasoning, the urge to unburden and start again is pretty strong. Do you go through these phases? Do you give in to urge to list all your worldly belongings on Craig’s List and wander the world with a backpack (and reservations at a 5 star hotel)? Do you remove everything from every surface in your home and place it all in a box?

2 comments on “Clear it Out”

  1. Dee Murray Reply

    The Great Purge of 2011 was one of the best things I’ve ever done. Things I was holding on to for sentimental reasons (but that I din’t like) had a brief moment of wistful rememberance then straight in the bin. White sheets that haven’t been white for years – along with the white shower curtain, the white towels, white everything for the white guest suite that I am clearly never going to have…all heaved-ho’ed. And I realized when I took a step back it was not about abandoning either the past or old hope (though it felt like it at the time), but it was about opening myself up for new opportunities. And new stuff!! I don’t Craigslist or garage sale, I donate to the organizations that need donating to and it also left me this huge sense of relief and calm. The bedroom is the worst place for clutter and the one I left for last. It was hard to say good bye to so much stuff that would never be passed down to children I’ll never have. No Halloween dress up, no magical days spent in my or my mother’s jewelry box looking and remembering, books that I know I’ll never read, trips I’ll never take, skirts I’ll never fit in again…But honestly, I found within myself, that just the random memory of something was so much more happy than the melancholy that I felt actually LOOKING at the item. And THAT, in and of itself was quite liberating.

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