Recovering pack rat musings.

You’d all be so proud of me.  I’m turning a corner in my life.  (I know you’re waiting with baited breath for which corner this could be.)

I recycled stacks of papers yesterday, filled a tall garbage bag, and assembled four big containers of things to take to Goodwill.  I can actually use my closet the way God meant for a closet to be used now.  There’s organization now.  I can actually find stuff.

It’s full of boxes of memories, really.  I haven’t completely laid dormant my sentimental side, so there were things that I couldn’t put in the trash.  Maybe someday, but not yet.  Corsages from formals all four years of high school, stuffed animal friends from childhood, pictures and pictures and more pictures, elementary school projects, meaningful notes.

I’m not sure exactly why I’m saving them, not sure who will care to look at them.  I mean, I will of course, every one or two years when I cull through my things again.  And I’ll smile and remember each event that those things stand for.  It might just be for me.  And maybe that’s enough.  Since it’s likely that I’ll forget those memories without some trigger to bring them back, perhaps it’s enough reason to store away those little things.

I’m a recovering pack rat. I no longer save everything.  I can easily part with many of the things that were once part of my life.  I sent my calculus binder to the recyclers with just a twinge of sadness.  I’m culling out the clutter to make room for new experiences and people. I’m opening up my life to see what God wants to fill it with.

I’ll hang on to my memories and a few little reminders, while still living in the present.  Let THE PURGE continue.

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