I’m moving out soon.
I’m daunted by the amount of stuff.
Stuff to be sorted, packed and put in storage.
I know I’ll feel lighter, less burdened, if I let go of much of it
~ and there’s little of it I couldn’t live without.
So why am I still holding on?
Here’s the contents of one small drawer today.
In the ‘extended family’ home in which I grew up, we had drawers filled with ‘junk’. I used to love sorting through a drawer and asking the adults about the contents.
Story after story would unfold. The objects were prompts for family tales and memories. Not intrinsically valuable, the objects were treasured nonetheless for their associated memories.
I think I needed those stories and the rootedness that they gave me when I was small, somewhat insecure and still learning about where I came from and who I was.