It’s All In Your Head

There is a deep connection between my brain and my belongings, and most hoarding experts would say “well, duh” to that.  What better proof is there than to find yourself in a thrift store checking out the treasures you donated last month?  This is why it rarely helps when well-meaning family members swoop in to remove your Stuff for you.  They’re just knocking you upside the head, and your brain will spend hours, days, or even weeks explaining to itself why you deserve to be angry or sad or shocked or heartbroken.

What if, without that scrap of fabric, your brain could no longer recall the feelings you had when you wore that garment on the day that you met the love of your life?  What if just holding it, you had been able to transport yourself to the exact moment you knew he was about to kiss you for the first time?  What if that memory stayed in your head but you couldn’t get to it anymore, to relive it, to recall it, to compare it to all the other kisses that would come after that and fall short?

Feelings, for some of us, are tactile.  I never feel the love of motherhood more powerfully than when I feel the top of my sons’ heads.  They are all grown, but if I ever have the opportunity to pat them on the head (and don’t squander such an opportunity) I can feel my heart swell and fill with a love I could not contemplate before giving birth.

To dispose of an item is sometimes taking the risk of forgetting something you want to always remember – for a hoarder.  If only we would use that brain to organize the memories instead of the clutter.

Unexpected Clutter

When you expect to find dust bunnies under your hoard, the last thing that comes to mind is bubble riders.

imag0305-20170215-192911200  These precious things, with their delicate wings once covered in dust, like to ride on all kinds of bubbles and tickle humans who are elsewhere.  There is no way they are going to help with housecleaning; they have loftier goals.

The benefit for me was that with each wing I dusted off, and each wish for a happy journey, I found new space in my home and spaciousness in my soul, which I filled with music and light and love instead of more boxes.

And so the connection to my Stuff is loosened, and the idea of blessing someone else with my posessions takes hold.  The clothes that will never fit my lifestyle, the crafts I will never make, the repairs I will never attempt, all are going away.  Slowly.  So as not to trip on a tiny faery.