As I continue on my quest to bring order and clarity back into my space, I notice the all important thing called zen.
I've been doing a weekly cleansing of space for some time now. I wish it could be more, but with this thing called life, I'm grateful that I can chip away on a continuous basis.
Going through each item, oftentimes sparks an accompanying emotion, memory of a time in my life. ~ Which here lies the problem with me and the reason for this blog ... because surely I can't be the only one to accumulate items because of the timeline involved.
A few years ago, I went on a certain spending spree...not enough to break the bank by any means, but enough to make my home burst at the already bulging seams.
Looking throughout my space that I once lovingly called my home, my oasis and my sanctuary, I see bits and pieces of not only my but the ones I hold closest to my heart. Old birthday and holiday cards from a love that can no longer send me these loving everyday mementos on this earthly place we call home. Recipes scratched in a random notebook in my mother's script from when I was only a wee little one of barely six by an amazing woman that has left my side over thirty years ago. Clothing, books and such, sparingly saved from two amazing children that have now grown and living the lives that only they could have imagined.
Last night's quest was to see an end to the magazine obsession I possess surrounding home and garden. I have had a "few" bags going from room to room, playing an endless game of Twister. Traveling from one room to the next as I needed "space" for one thing or another. The time had come and I was not going to bed till the last of these had been quickly looked through to send to the library's "help yourself" bin and a chosen few to be held in another "basket" to relish at another time.
Skimming through my pile I noticed so many things, such as the year on some which reached back to "2005"! My mind went straight to the timeframe...children were such and such ages, husband was still vibrant in health, hopes and dreams of all at the time and interests along the way.
Each was a time capsule in and of itself. Skimming through I noticed the name of the author of an article that now I regard as a top mentor in my chosen field. Noticing my ever fascination with mason jars filled with flowers and dry herbs, oils, teas and little pretties of a quieter more self sufficient time in our history. Funny how things come full circle and that one periodical was unknowingly kept only to spring up again so many years later...in such a knowing of how the Universe brings us back in a full spiral to our former selves, but not in the same place but in a higher more advanced copy of who we were meant to become.
Looking throughout all my earthly attachments I come to the well aware knowing that these "treasures" are bits and pieces of my life, in tiny fragments shaped into tiny rocks from the beach when my littles were in fact little during our summers in Greece. The bowls we had our watermelon on during our long ago past summer's slow and relaxing days by the pool. The list goes on and on... How can we put a price on such "treasures"? The reality is we can't. Not in a monetary form anyway. The tiny pebbles are meaningless to anyone else, but to me they bring back pure bliss in family life, a time that lives in every heartbeat of my soul.
So the question comes as this...
At what point does collecting mementos become a life force of its own? At what point do we allow our past "treasures" to bind us to such an extent with our past that we forget or don't have room in our lives to be alive in our preset or even dream and fulfill our future?
Glancing throughout my abode, I notice a timeline of my own growth even amongst this almost past decade. Books of knowledge of my chosen path squeezed between and somewhat unhonored amongst things that even I have outgrown in my evolution. Interspersed and sprinkled with a hobby placed aside here or there many moons ago which seem more like lifetimes as I'm writing this.
As things were brought in with such joy and vigor...now only items that I truly hold space for can ever enter or even stay. Are they bringing me overwhelming happiness and joy? Am I still using them to learn or teach from? If I could only have a few items in my possession...would they be the ones?
As I unravel each closet and box in this home of mine, reliving each step along the way, I am prodded to lovingly open new chapters of the person I stand now with the person I have been along the way and the one I can only dream to become. Understanding we are not one nor the other but a beautiful stream of light ever evolving only if we allow ourselves to be.
Thank you for taking the time to read my blog. If you found meaning or know of someone that it could touch, please feel free to pass this on.