Millions of people proudly declare they get Spring Cleaning Fever. I suffer from something I totally made up right now called Quarterling. If you stand in the middle of a room thinking there is too much unnecessary stuff, about 4 times a year - congratulations, you're diagnosed by non-Doctor Clark. Not junk, but odds and ends, tidbits, snapshots of life, a neglected hobby, or that thing I forgot to put away. It's nothing you need but something which meant enough to keep at that moment. And hardest of all, I'm cleaning for two.
I sit and look at the items laid out before me, the ones I've held on to for "sentimental reasons" and think just get rid of it. ALL of it. I am nostalgic & reflectorial to a point, but not materialistic. It weighs me down; lurks in dark corners pressing on my shoulders, like some hoarder voodoo priestess. I smile or laugh a few seconds from seeing those 3rd grade report cards, or that goofy note I wrote, or even a menu from the restaurant with the thing. But 99% of them go back in a box. I have no attachment the moment that lid closes. Maybe that says more about me in the way I process emotions. I get that with people too, but this is not that story.
Books and music aside (because those threads are permanent) why keep something you didn't even remember you had. We know why. Because impressions fade and holding a tangible memory means you're still connected to it. It won't leave you as long as you don't leave It. Easier said than done, sure. And understandably letting go is hard because it feels so final. And final is scary. And scary is unwanted.
I say take the emotion out of it and look at the facts. Letting go breathes new life into the stagnant waters of a stuffed closet. It washes away the skim piling upon the shelves, allowing the fresh sparkly seeds the ability to shine and bloom. I look at the remaining pieces with a revived appreciation for what matters in my evolving life. It becomes easier, at least for me, because with the distraction gone I can focus my attention on the upcoming years' passions, without all the noise.
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As I continually navigate what inner neo-minimalism means to me,
I'm reminded of a holiday party Trav & I went to years ago. The gathering celebrated the closing of another year, but also a Serbian custom this woman and her family
adapted called Polaznik.
The traditional element is prosperity: yell a phrase, throw a penny,
stoke the fire for sparks to bring much success or some junk. They
added the element of cleansing: go through every room/drawer/closet and
if something is broken-fix it; if you can't, recycle if, and if you
haven't used it in the last 12 months - donate it.
WOW. ee. I was instantly drawn to this basis for exorcising our home of the
unwanted! It seemed to simplistically achieve everything I wanted for a continued sense of renewal. I was home.
Although, in as much as I'd love to go full purge - I can't, at least not yet. If I followed the rules to a tee, especially with our books & CDs, I would be off balance. Like one chuck taylor's heel would be missing for a spell. Acceptance of
change takes time and application, and we should be doing what makes the most sense. It doesn't have to be exactly what they do, it just needs to be us. Our home is what we build of it and build together as
we do.
This is part of what I look forward to when the clock strikes twelve, the calendar shows day 1. A reset of life sorts, not to make resolutions per se, but to work hard towards achieving a new set of goals. Which should evolve from year to year. I like that it's a simple tool I can cultivate over my lifetime, setting my death up for success. Yes even death... and that should make sense now.
I greatly appreciate my new found Polaznik roots. Maybe you will too.
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