I’ve never really been great at letting things go. Mementos and countless sentimental items definitely have planted themselves in my home, but it’s not only those little knick-knacks that wriggle their way into every bit of open space available. Piles of already paid bills mixed in with school notices from my teenage son’s elementary school sit alongside decades of birthday party favors and old Christmas cards.
Most days I’m able to straighten the unruly paperwork into neat piles alongside my desk, or shove it all in a “I’ll get to it later” box and stack it on another in the unused corner of the kids’ playroom. Eventually, “I’ll get to it later” becomes “Wow, I’d forgotten all about that” when the box is uncovered months, or even years later.
While there are many reasons (excuses?) I feel the need to hold onto these things, through talking it out with a good friend, I’ve come to the realization that I’m actually fearful of making a decision. I’m worried about getting rid of something I might need later, or something that I’ll want to hold, reflect on and reminisce about. I’m afraid of dishonoring the time and effort that someone gifted me. I’m afraid of forgetting someone I’ve lost. I’m afraid of deciding wrong. And because of that, I’ve gotten into the habit of avoiding the decision altogether.
I’ve gotten so used to the idea of setting aside these hard things instead of facing them, hoping that just for a moment, I can close my eyes to the clutter. If I just move a few things here, and a few things there, I can put up my blinders and enter a clear and peaceful workspace to sit down and exhale into creativity and calm.
But after a while, I’ll begin to feel the ache again deep down in my gut. The haunt of the clutter is still there. The once visual mess has morphed it’s way into mental clutter. It whispers from the floor beside me. It sings to me from the corner of the room down the hall. It laughs, distracting me from the facade, pulling me back into the reality I’ve been desperate to avoid.
Teeter on the line of guilt and comparison, I acknowledge the mess in my home. On one hand, I feel a bit guilty for letting it pile up this badly. (And by badly I don’t mean sign me up for an episode of Extreme Home Makeover—although that would be awesome.) At the same time, I don’t want to compare my home with magazine covers and my IG feed—although having my home look like that would be awesome too. But I need to remember to be kind to myself in this whole process. Guilt and comparison have no place here. And so I have to adopt a new mindset.
Instead of berating myself for a messy home and thinking that “my home needs to be neat and tidy for me to be a good mom/wife/person,” I need to instead partner my desire to declutter with my need for self-care. If I have a home that is full of stuff that I don’t need, it steals my attention and my energy from the things that really matter. (Declutter Like a Mother by Allie Casazza is a great book that explores decluttering from this healthy and realistic point of view.)
Visual peace helps to maintain emotional peace.
This is not going to be an easy process; especially for someone like me who can find sentimentality in a beat up envelope, or a broken toy from 1984. But it’s something that I actually have to do within the next year simply because our family of five is planning the biggest move of our lives and things just need to go.
So here I am. In all of my clutter-filled glory. I’m in a season of transition—a season of letting go. Not only ready to get rid of the stuff, but ready to deal with the emotional attachment that might halt me from truly letting go of some of the things that might make me happy (or “bring me joy”), but hold me back from holding onto the things that truly matter.
And you might find yourself in need of letting a few things go, too. While you might not be facing a 3500 mile cross-country move, or you might not have a roomful of junk to sort through, maybe there is something you’ve been holding onto a bit too long, or something that you haven’t quite made a decision on yet.
Maybe it’s a grudge with a friend or family member. Maybe it’s a letter that you just didn’t know how to respond to. Maybe it’s a broken heart. Maybe it’s a toy you’ve kept since childhood that your own children outgrew—okay, maybe that’s just me.
Friend, let’s take some time in our day this week, to pick up a few of those things we’ve set aside for a little too long. Let’s set a date on our calendar to hold these things in our hands, honor them and make a decision. We may find that our heart might not be ready to let go just yet, and that’s okay. But we might also find that it’s time.
It’s time to let go.
