Dredging

I have finally come to terms with the fact that I will never complete all the projects I have materials for, read all the books on my Kindle or my shelves, or have a 'someday' when all the things I've saved will miraculously find a use. I have finally begun to see how crowded our bookshelves are, and how many chairs we have, and how few we actually need. Thank God we don't save newspapers and National Geographics, or we would probably be like those people you see on the evening news that have heart attacks and EMTs can't get to them because the paths between the stacks are too narrow. But I digress.

I am currently dredging the bottom layer of muck from each of the 3rd floor bedrooms, and am hoping to see floor by tomorrow evening. We have dumped three boxes of stuff at UpCycle*, rented a small storage space and bought shelves for same, and have been sorting through books, with an eye to which ones we could either do without entirely, or live without having them in our immediate vicinity. I see a visit to a Salvation Army or Goodwill shop in my future. I have several boxes and bags (anyone need a picture frame or 6?) ready to go.

The purported reason behind this is that our daughter and her family will be coming to stay a few days here--between Scotland and Tucson, just to reset their internal clocks from Dundee time to Eastern Daylight. They need places to sleep, preferably not covered with piles of books or linens or clothes ready to be discarded. The REAL reason for the clean-up, however, is that we simply need to pare things down. The time has come. The time is now.

Why is it so hard to get rid of things? I think I am genetically programmed to acquire, to collect, to save almost everything. There's an innate thriftiness that says I can't just GIVE AWAY something that I spent good money for, or something that might be worth something. And so I find myself looking for people and places who can use what I can't: the golf clubs that haven't breathed the air of a course in 10 years, the shoes that have sat on shelves in two different houses,  books that I want to read 'someday'...

The hope and consolation on the horizon that has spurred me into the world of discard has been the recent popularity of a little book by a Japanese lady that (in spite of her ridiculous admonitions to talk to your socks) has a saving grace. Her advice is to look at something and acknowledge how it gave you pleasure (or SOMETHING), say a brief 'thank you', and let it GO. Which makes sense. If the only purpose of that pair of shoes was to lift your spirits by the act of buying them...well, so be it. They served a purpose; they can be given away without guilt.

So, I am shouting huge 'thank you's to all my stuff--to the jackets I will never wear again, to the unread books, to the fabric and paper and pens and paints, to the great ideas I never realized, to the supplies I never used...thank you all for the anticipatory happiness you brought, and for the hope that I might, one day, have time to do creative things. And now....goodbye.

* UpCycle is a creative reuse center--sort of a combo of consignment shop/art store that carries all sorts of project 'fixings'. If you like to piddle around with stuff and make things, if Michael's is what I would call 'an occasion of sin' for you, you would love this place. And probably have stuff you could donate. Located at 1712 Mt. Vernon Ave. in Del Ray. Gray building, white trim. Enter on the side.