I am a minimalist
no really.
so I stayed in a very small sphere of a place, in the trees and by a pond that made me feel transported back to my grandfathers farm, and i laughed with so much delight not over the reflection in the pond at night nor the surprise visit by a dragonfly, but because the tea pot had a little space just for it in the closet, where it went where you were done.
and so on and so on, i had nothing but what i had packed to bring (which was far too much food; I had a mcguiver moment and turned our sink into a freezer) and i was not only fine - I felt I still had too much.
there was no need at all to have anything more than what i actually needed, the idea seemed ridiculous.
so, i was thrilled to discover for the third time in my life that i really don't want all the stuff I'm tripping over every day and dreaming about the rest of the time. The first time I realized I loved less, was when I had to pack only two suitcases of belongings and say goodbye to the rest. It was not easy, and most of it was agonizing and I was packing and repacking until moments before our departure. And, that was just to decide what would go safely in storage. To be fair, much of this was brand new wedding gifts and cards, photographs and childhood treasures.. but still, it was stuff. Special, save longer than I live stuff!
the second time was when we packed up to come to Bc and only brought what fit in our car, why we didn't just think of getting a bigger car (ahem.. passenger van) I'll never know, but conversations went like so: " What about shoes?!" -
"We can buy new ones when we get there" Which of course was not wise, since they were perfectly good shoes that fit. And other such nonsense, which got me, three years into living here and still having no winter coat (when I had two really warm, not to mention, fun ones at home) sigh.
So. I have happily left all behind, not once, not twice, but three times.
And I know that I would be very peaceful were I to live in a teeny tiny place.
But, it doesn't work. This simple living - less is more, because I am so emotionally tied to things. I cannot let go! Sure - if it's the only way I can get on the plane, or move, or if I suddenly get a flash of inspiration and throw things down the stairs and out of my life forever! Then I can. But the very day after I have gotten rid of a bunch of clothes or letters or whatever, with a -brace myself - hold back tears silent scream! .. the very next moment, I am keeping the gum wrapper because it was a mystery flavour and the wrapper has question marks instead of the flavour advertised. I am keeping a strand of my hair, or a child's drawing that they have decided is not worth holding onto. I keep everything!
I have realized that it is because everything has value and every moment is actually that exciting! NO really! My heart breaks every few seconds because others don't always see it and outwardly I pretend it's silly or laugh at myself, when inwardly I wish I'd just written a poem about the bubble in the puddle of rain and kept my jubilance a secret. I really treasure it all. I really want to remember everything.
I have a terrible memory - and so I take pictures, lots and lots and lots of pictures so I remember, but then I wonder if my memories grow dim because I capture them all instead of soaking them in deep.
I have stopped taking as many pictures. It feels strange. So many moments and I have to just remember them, like the time I met with all my new co workers and we were in a beautiful home by the ocean and we were served tea in a japanese pot and there was a little fairy on the corner of the table and i felt that I wanted to never forget that because one day we would be friends and it would matter.
That day I did not take a picture. I was too shy, and now I will never remember that tea or that tea pot or where each of my friends were sitting.
:) that was a happy comfort to write.
Yes, so I collect, I gather…twigs, berries ( they sometimes stain my pockets) leaves, coins, pebbles, bits of things, letters, photographs, words, my words, friends words, school projects, dolls, toys, cute things, retro things, vintage things, keys, broken jewellery, magazines, wrappers and packaging..
When I am not finding these in the fields and forests, along sidewalks and in school recycling boxes, I am finding them in stores. Stores are wonderful places for finders to go, there are always things that are the very answer the the deepest longings of ones soul. And on that particular day at that particular moment because no one else came by first, because you are you and it is it. Just because of this magic, it is coming home with you. It is already in your hand and yours.
It's safe now. It will be safe forever. In one of several special bins or boxes, drawers or purses. There are many of those of course, and in there somewhere is this newest thing.
The answer is to scrapbook. Take photos. Document in some creative way and then lose the item… I have tried. I take a picture, cut it and scrap book it..and then I make an even more sacred place for the actual item to go. So that as you see the picture or the comment about the object you can certainly see the real object for yourself.
I am not so much a keeper as an archiver.
I have a library of my life and everyone else's. People I don't even know and things that make me imagine lives that probably aren't. And then, gum wrappers that make me laugh.
Things make me happy.
Of course people are more important than things, but when you're heart has been pulled in so many directions that you no longer have a place to call home or a friend to call true, when you practice great fullness but know it's the bidding of a deep sense of loss.. well, then suddenly things are more trustworthy - things are safer - things love you.
that little wrapper is protected in my drawer and breathing a sense of thank you for not being tossed into the recycle, unseen and unimportant.
I do not love the blossoming rose the world admires, I love the dainty breaking fragility of the dried rose, no longer beautiful and no longer able to stand.
Even dust is valuable to me.
The other day when I was cleaning out the dryer, I was tempted to curl the
fluff into a ball and name it.
Perhaps that is too honest, but that is the truth.
So. my stuff is happiness and is safety, it is hiding and keeping, it is hoarding and learning, it is remembering and treasuring, and it has to stop.
But I am afraid of who I will be when I have silenced this part of who I am.
I am longing to undue wasted years, hours of searching for a shirt (every single morning) hours of moving things to new places instead of dealing with it, tired of saying goodbye to things only to find that the memory is still there and getting rid of the object did nothing to lose this person from my thoughts.
I want to cleanse my closets and drawers and under the bed's so that I can wake up well.
So that I can begin to declutter my mind.
I'm overwhelmed and there is a verse that says best what I am up against,
The thing I want to do I cannot do and the thing I do not want to do I keep on doing.
more on this, as I face patterns of life I want to change.
like being all or nothing
having impossible standards people call dreaming big or shooting for the stars
Whatever happened to being human and living humbly?
I also want to take my own vow of silence and need to add as a final note that Facebook is toxic for me and I keep on with it.. because I have no other way of being in communication with those I care about..
I wish for the days of letter writing almost every single day.
I hope you are well and brave enough to tackle what's up with you?
If not. Don't worry it took me 34 years to even admit I had a problem.
SLow and Steady.. I wish!
