I’ve spent the last week hoeing out.
No, that’s not a comment on my morals, or a sign that I’ve developed a penchant for gardening. I’ve just decided it’s time to unload the accumulated debris of my past lives.
Since I moved back to Central New York six years ago, most of my possessions have been residing in the far corner of the garage. I’ve been reluctant to go through them. After all, those boxes and totes hold far more than clothes, books, household items and random odds and ends. They’re chock-full of memories. Many of which I was keen to put behind me when I initially packed it all away.
They say time heals all wounds, and in this case they are right. Because a month or so ago, I came to the realization that I’m finally ready to let it all go.
So, last week I arranged for a dumpster. And as soon as it arrived, I began the long-overdue task of going through those containers.
If I had any doubts about the timing of my endeavor, I didn’t need to look further than the first box for an assurance from the universe. One of the first items I extracted from its musty depths was a tiny tin of mints. The tin was a favor from a friend’s wedding – which took place exactly 8 years ago to the day. (Happy Anniversary, Liz & Kent!)
I’ve found myself less nostalgic about the past than I thought I’d be. As evidenced by the fact that I’ve had no qualms in discarding certain items I’d been previously unwilling to part with.
I’d list them here, but frankly, at any given moment I could veer toward sentimentality. And the next thing you know, I’ll be making a mad dash for that dumpster…
It’s the most random things I find myself most reluctant to part with. Like a pair of purple velour bell bottoms. I’ve been hanging on to them since the summer I was an orientation leader in college. Before you start jumping to any conclusions about my wardrobe, let me explain: They were part of my costume for the Brady Bunch-themed play we put on for that year’s incoming freshman.
Yes, the memories… they have come flooding back. But I find I’m not quite as attached to the contents of those boxes as I thought I’d be.
That’s not to say I haven’t brought a few armloads of belongings into the house. (Including those purple bell bottoms…) But a far greater percentage has gone either in the dumpster or to Common Cents, the thrift store that supports our local food pantry.
I’m not quite done yet, but already I’m feeling rather proud of myself. And, somehow…lighter. As if by getting rid of the past, I’m more ready to tackle the future.
Which is a good thing, since I’m about to embark on my next adventure. Yep, that’s right. I’m heading back to the Dominican Republic. This time for a more extended stay.
It will be my 100 Days in Paradise.
Don’t worry. You’ll get to read all about it.