Making space...

Surrounding ourselves with objects that speak to our souls brings us genuine pleasure. Still, a lot of us are numb to some objects that surround – dust gathering from past marriages and previous incarnations that have little connection to our present lives. Is your space filled with the excess baggage of old relationships…or of a self that you parted with long ago? Who is this woman who lives here? Are these things you? If they’re not, what are they doing in your most intimate, personal spaces? What are they doing in your house? –from Moving On by Sarah Ban Breathnach

Odds are you have one – mostly out of sight, often behind a closed door, yet lurking near enough that it’s never completely out of mind. You vow that one day soon you will do what needs to be done. You will face the hulking menace, once and for all. You will clean out that closet-, room-, basement-, garage-, or storage-unit-full-of-stuff.

Working as a reporter for the Observer Newspapers in 2004, I wrote an essay titled “Making a Place for the Good Stuff,” inspired by a weekend I’d spent cleaning out closets and cabinets.

Taking a look at everything I'd accumulated, I realized that I had more stuff than I could ever use, even if I wanted to – stuff I didn’t like much anymore or didn’t want or need much anymore. Perfectly good stuff, most of it gently used, some never used at all. Opening boxes and storage containers, I found things I’d been saving so long I’d forgotten why I’d bought them in the first place. Things someone less fortunate than I would love to have, and could have, if only I’d let loose of it all.

By Sunday evening, the trunk of my car was loaded with bags full of clothes, shoes, purses, wine glasses, sheets and towels, a quilt and matching pillows – all donated to the Humble Area Assistance Ministries (HAAM). Also on board were several bags of books – all donated to Friends of the Library Kingwood (FOLK).

In the years since my “big give,” I’ve managed to weed out stuff on a regular basis, hanging onto only those things I really want, really need and/or actually use. But there was one closet, the closet in my spare bedroom/office, mostly filled with special things – copies of my published novels, tear sheets from my news reporter days, partially completed manuscripts too dear to my heart to toss – that also held a lot of “excess baggage.”

There were three accordion-style folders full of e-mails chronicling relationships that had been important to me in the past. Originally, I’d printed and saved them as a diary. Then I’d thought about using them as the basis of a humorous book about the perils (and there are many!) of Internet dating after 50. Some of the experiences I'd had were pretty funny, but mostly, they were really sad.

I read a few snippets here and there and found myself wondering, “Who was that oh-so-eager-to-please person? Why did she put up with all that crap? Why didn’t she value herself more?” She hadn't lived in my space for a really long time - so long I barely recognized her - and as of yesterday, thanks my trusty shredder, neither does the baggage of the relationships she once had.

Next to go were reams (and reams) of paperwork from my divorce, including the meant-to-hurt, often hateful missives sent to me by my ex-husband during the nine months it took to be done with him. More than seven years later, the time had come to toss all that “excess baggage,” as well.

Several trips to the dumpster later, and dry-eyed once again (yes, there were a few tears – they washed away the last little bits of “dust”), I took a final look at my spare bedroom/office closet and realized that the papers I’d shredded hadn’t really taken up all that much room. But by getting rid of them, I’d opened up some space, not only physically, but also emotionally.

I remember hearing once that when you’ve opened up a little space in your life, the Universe takes note, and good things – like hopes and dreams fulfilled – are most likely to come your way.

I don’t know about you, but I can’t think of any other gift I’d rather give myself, as the New Year begins, than a little space waiting to be filled with good things….