Eliminating Clutter
by Susan Tate

Our life is frittered away by detail . . . simplify, simplify. Henry David Thoreau

Anyone familiar with the metaphysical law that deals with clearing out space in order to receive more has experienced the joy of what happens after you eliminate clutter. One of the most freeing things I have ever done was to abolish clutter. And believe me, I know what clutter looks like. Good things can come into your life when you've created a place for them to enter.

A real turning point for me was when we sold my parents' home after my mother's death and had the task of packing up 53 years of a household. My sentimental mother saved every card my dad had ever sent to her, every card she sent to him, every card she received from her 5 children, 15 grandchildren, 13 great grandchildren . . . well, you get the idea. It was like a Hallmark card factory. My siblings and I couldn't possibly go through all of the memorabilia so we carefully selected a few favorites and we recycled the rest. Well, actually, my sister Beth temporarily recycled the rest to her house. Speaking of Beth, I must add that we did need to restrain her from unhinging the kitchen door that she wanted to include in her pile of memories. The heights of all the Tate children and their children were marked on that door and she was determined to take it with her! She also agonized a bit over who should get the Dalmatian dog toilet brush holder.

The first night I arrived home, I sat by myself in the living room and gazed at all that was around me. There was the family Bible on the table by my dad's favorite chair, my mom's music box collection, a small bust of Jackie Kennedy, family photographs on the dining room wall and the old maple stereo console we'd had since the sixties.

Anticipating the next four days of packing and removing remnants of our family's life together in this house, I began to cry. It seemed like a task I was too young to be doing and nothing seemed to make any sense. How would it feel to never come home again?

After praying for a few minutes, I felt a deep sense of peace wash over me. Spirit was clearly at work here, as I felt I was receiving a profound gift that enabled me to move through this passage with grace, strength and trust. This gift proved to be more valuable than any household item in our lovely family home. I realized that it wasn't the stuff, it wasn't the dishes, and it wasn't the doors or the walls or my old bedroom that was important at that moment. It wasn't the living room where I stood for photos in my prom and wedding dresses or groaned when mom wanted to take one more family picture. It wasn't the things--it was the space in between that was important. The gift was the realization that the space in between all this stuff was where I had learned to love. And that love was something I was able to safely pack with me and keep for the rest of my life. My tears stopped and I thanked God for the gift of this peaceful insight, and for the gift of such loving parents.

After that weekend of overwhelming memories, I went home and pulled out my stash of Hallmark treasures: the wedding cards, birthday cards (the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree), and early artwork from the children. I created a memory box for both of our children and filled it with special treasures. I then fashioned my own box and mindfully sorted through what things had the most meaning for me. It felt so cleansing. I was able to keep memories but not as much memorabilia. I didn't need twenty cards from my last big birthday or the get-well cards from years ago to remind me of my past surgeries and illnesses. Someone once told me that if you have something special that you love so much, either hang it up in the living room so you can see it every day or get rid of it! What an interesting concept.

Traveling lighter feels luscious. I continue to create new memories and treasure each event, but I more consciously choose what gets recycled back into the universe. As you eliminate clutter and simplify, you will know what to keep and what to share.