Even though I consider myself quite an adventurous person and generally not stuck in a rut, when it comes down to it, I’m not sure I jump up for joy everytime a change looms on the horizon. On the contrary, I start getting butterflies in my stomach, I wake up often in the night holding on to my pillow, I get more emotional than usual over small, silly things, I start already creating a memory and crying over it before it’s even a memory, ha! So, no, I generally don’t think I like changes. Changes as in losing something, or having to throw away something. I have a few folders full of notes, birthday cards I received over the years, small drawings some child handed me (not to speak of the suitcases of memories from my own kids!). I’m not materialistic but I do care for memories and things of a sentimental value. To me, something given in love is worth keeping.
That’s why, when we had to move from the house/office we lived in for the past 15 years (previous to that, the most I lived in a place was 4 years), the job I was given to sort things out in 3 piles was so heart wrenching: one pile was the stuff to keep, one pile things that were still useful and could be given away, and one last pile, sniff sniff, the things to simply throw away.
For awhile the third pile remained suspiciously small, as I just couldn’t muster up the courage to throw things away, feeling that I would hurt the person who gave the object, or that I would forget about him/her, or that one day we would need that thing.
One of my coworkers offered/threatened to come help me and so I got the hint that it was time to start seriously throwing away some stuff.
It was painful.
It was tiring.
At the end I was so exhausted but I did manage to throw away quite a bit of old, useless stuff and we made it to move within our deadline.
The first few days I felt simply worn out by the battle, and a little sad, but as the days went by it felt really good to turn a new page. A new feeling of lightness started seeping in my whole being and I finally came to the realisation that in my heart things would never grow old or get lost. There was actually the safest place to keep them in, there they would last longer being out of the material realm where decay and loss is inevitable.
So the three piles ended up being a great lesson in life, something I realised I need to do on a regular base, not just when it’s time to move houses: to keep, to give away, to throw away. And the wisdom to know which pile…
The Love Log 