Decluttering

FRIDAY. I'm embarrassed to admit there are still several bags in my bedroom I've not unpacked. The past few days have been a bit chaotic. I wander through the house aimlessly, looking for items to place in the yard sale box, or the freecycle box, or the trash. There's no rhyme or reason to my peregrinations. I simply amble from room to room. Thinning out my possessions is excruciatingly painful, yet I know it's absolutely necessary. Bottom line: I have too much stuff. Stuff weighs me down. Stuff demands my constant attention. Stuff stifles. And stuff costs a fortune and a lot of energy--both psychic and physical--to move.

The POD sits in the driveway, reminding me of post-Charley days. The rain has been fierce today and I've watched the swales fill and recede several times. Each time the swale fills, the water creeps closer and closer to the back end of the POD.

I've been sifting through books, tapes and records today, all of which I consider "my children." After all, they've been with me longer than some kids remain with their parents. When I look at them I'm reminded of good times long forgotten. I realize I needn't let go of memories, but I do need to let go of these symbols of my youth. All those Moody Blues albums...the Talking Heads tapes...and a well-worn copy of "Be Here Now" by Baba Ram Dass. I wonder whether keeping them has kept me young, and whether letting go of them will open the door to old age. Have I fooled myself into believing I'm still a kid? It seems like just yesterday I was listening to The Byrds on a record player in a tiny dorm room with three other freshmen. Have I used these symbols to identify myself as forever young?

I freecycled 2 dozen music tapes today, a cordless electric broom, and over 50 classical music LP's. I sold a rather nice portable stereo, and relisted my piano on ebay. I don't relish the thought of two of us lifting a 400 lb. piano into the POD. I keep asking M if I'm "doing good" as my giveaway box fills up, seeking approval that helps offset my anguish.

During the past two days I've reconnected with a dear friend with whom I'd been out of touch for over 20 years. It is heart-warming to know that the years haven't diminished our mutual respect or affection. We reminisced about the good times, and I now realize there will be more good times. It won't look the same, but as long as there's breath in this body, I will dance. Decluttering my physical house requires a great deal of faith and trust that the good times will continue, even if I pass my Woodstock album on to someone else. The era of youthful adventures has ended, but a new era is dawning. And it will be fabulous!

Do I believe letting go of my LP's will make me old? Not for a minute. Age is a quality of heart and mind, not body. And as trite as it sounds, we really are as young as we feel. As the song says, "Everybody dance now!"