Yesterday I made great strides in the continuing move towards decluttering. I managed to fill three boxes with only two kinds of things: empty picture frames (half a box) and books (two and a half boxes). You can ascertain from the name of my blog that both of these items really got me in the “feels,” as the kids like to say.
My inner shutterbug had a hard time pulling the photos from the frames. I kept reminding myself, however, that the photos can be put in albums and that I really don’t need a photo of my infant daughter on display when she is now twenty-two years old. I kept framed engagement and wedding photos of my husband and me. We were still young (late 20s’) and we looked so happy — because we were. And still are. And that makes me smile. (Okay — so my husband’s mullet makes me laugh, too.) I don’t need dozens of framed photos cluttering up surfaces and making dusting even more difficult than necessary. So I’m being very thoughtful about what I keep and what I display.
I’m a scribbler, so books are precious to me. Even the so-so ones. I feel sorry for them (and their authors), so I want to give them all homes. Our home is a pier and beam home, though, with a crawlspace beneath the flooring. If I kept all the books I am tempted to keep, we would be in danger of caving in on ourselves. I went through my shelves in my new study and pulled quite a few volumes — mostly crafty works on scrapbooking, cross stitching, sewing, etc. I made myself evaluate what the odds were that I would use them in creating anything. I got rid of about half of those types of books, which left empty space on my shelves. It actually felt nice. Encouraging. And those books are no longer glaring at me from the shelves, inciting guilt for projects left undone or never started.
I wish my mom had been able to experience the kind of freedom I’m experiencing from “cleaning house.” It’s interesting how I can almost feel peace blooming from this process, and it motivates me to keep going.