The first days of moving into our new home in Hudson
I went nuts clearing out my porch yesterday. It had just become too much to bear any longer. There were piles upon dusty piles of junk from the previous tenants (and probably the tenants before them!). Looking out the kitchen window onto the backyard was a consistently disturbing sight of someone else’s crap cluttering the view. In a hurumpf of enough! I went about moving every single thing into my best attempt at a large yard pile to eventually be trucked away to the dump.
There. Was. So. Much. Stuff: A workout bench, a bottle of beer and a bottle of water both unopened, a broken windowpane, two square window screens, a Halloween skeleton decoration, binders, bags, bugs and so much more. Blech.
Of course I thought about stuff after that. As I walked back into the house I turned my attention to what lay inside. What else could I get rid of? Honestly, that was my first thought. I wondered how many of the things that lined our walls and took up shelf space really mattered that much to us and what was just taking up space.
The best part about moving is the initial emptiness of the new space Before the stuff arrives and only a bed and maybe a nightstand occupy the bedroom, and perhaps one beloved art piece and a few scattered pictures frames announce a new tenant, the space is full of openness and freedom. I love that spaciousness. It has no agenda, no pre conceived limitations, no need to be anything other than the white walls and wood floor.
New spaces are open to the present moment in a way that rooms cluttered with things of the past are not. Memorabilia has its place and I’m fond of many possessions that honor stories of people and places and memories that I don’t want to forget. But many items have no story at all, they are waterlogged with the passage of time but there’s nothing other than their lengthy companionship to warrant their presence in my home.
In keeping with the weekend’s sudden theme, I lugged an extra large bag of all kinds of stuff to Goodwill including a pair of leather boots I love but don’t fit as well as I pretend they do and two lamps I was saving for a DIY project but finally admitted to myself that we don’t actually need lamps.
I am probably more pleased than one needs to be with this simple act of collecting and getting rid. Now I just wish it could have been two bags instead of one.
It’s amusing how these cleaning out endeavors fit with the current theme of my life: curation. Editing out that which no longer serves (or never did). Music, clothes, food, people, jobs–all are subject to this process. So far I’m feeling pretty good about it. More than anything it’s helped me find my own path regardless of what I am influenced to believe otherwise. Let’s say those boots were good while they were mine but now it’s someone else’s turn to walk in them. I’ll suggest they take a lamp to light the way. 😉