I’m trying to declutter. I’m trying to get rid of old stuff. I’m trying to organize my life. The reality shows make it look so simple. Make three piles – 1) keep 2) sell 3) toss. Put each piece of clutter in the appropriate pile. Put the keep stuff away neatly. Have a garage sale and sell what you can. Throw out everything else. Sounds simple enough. So I get started. I haul out boxes from closets and get to work.
Empty envelopes. Toss.
Old report cards. Keep.
Collectible tin. Sell
Broken bracelet. Toss.
Grandfather’s belt buckle. Keep.
Picture frame. Sell.
Teenage boy’s obituary…..
Tassel from graduation cap…..
Umbilical cord clamp…..
Alice Cooper concert balloon….
Baby brush with flattened bristles….
Great-Grandma’s stained, heart-shaped pillow….
I slow down.
I stall.
When are things just things? When do things become more?
In what pile do I put my sadness? How do I sort out my pride and excitement? Where do I put my rock & roll frenzy? How do I categorize tenderness? When do I say good-bye?
My life is cluttered. I think it’s supposed to be.
©Conni Cartlidge, 2011
