My husband says to our children, “If I disappear, look for me in a Goodwill store!” His fear stems from the reality that I have been emptying our home of a lifetime of purchases since 2006. I take great pleasure in getting rid of things we don’t need. I still need Dan, so he is safe.
I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t organizing and cleaning. Even as a young child, I was checking drawers and lining crayons and pens in neat rows. I asked permission to arrange my mother’s “top drawer” in the kitchen containing her receipts, pens, stamps, address book, and wallet. I would do the same with the top drawer that my dad had in the kitchen containing electrical tape, measuring tape, twine, and glue. At that time, it made no sense as to why I needed to line up items and dust out pencil shavings. Now I better understand what this provided.
I was alone a fair amount of time with a very cold, busy, and angry stay at home mother. Life was calmer, staying out of sight. I found solace in the outdoors and the company of my toys. I found beauty in library books and nature and the kindness of teachers. I longed for care but found it mostly in creating order.
When kindness is lacking, and there is little to no touch, we live in the inner turmoil of hurt, loneliness, and anger. The best escape to this internal chaos is to arrange the external world into something that we can manage and control. But what that creates, in the long run, is a disparity between what is internally true versus what is true externally. Too often, my effort to buy and then order my external world made me a slave to my possessions.
I believe that possessions have weighed me down for a long time. I watched my parents during their final years and longed to hurl books, shoes, notes from college, and wood saved in their garage (just in case you needed a longboard to create a make-do skating rink on the driveway) out of their home. After a while, external possessions mock us in our effort to use them to silence our internal war. But obviously, we are not meant to throw everything away.
It seemed reasonable and proper to save unique school papers of our children and favorite baby clothes that I treasured. Photo albums documenting all holidays and birthdays seemed the wise and sensible way to live. You would think that owning seven houses and living in four rentals in seven states would have weeded tons of possessions out. It did, and it didn’t. Possessions keep me hostage to sorrow and sentimentality.
Why, oh why, did so many things get saved? Why could I not let everything go? There are items I wished I had saved. My parents’ plaid jackets they would wear gardening. (Were they bought on their honeymoon in Arrowhead Springs during the war?). A white ceramic pitcher and basin, probably the only item my mother had of her childhood. (Was this from my great grandmother who used it on her ranch in Throckmorton, Texas?)
As I write, I feel the teeter-totter goes up and down as I miss some of what I have discarded and decided to keep. I finally have two empty attics and hope never to put anything in an attic again! The breath I breathe when I have less stuff around me is sweet. In some ways, I have only begun!
I need more space in my heart, and the giving away of the past seems to bring a lightness to my being.
The lighter I feel correlates with the energy to be alive and free from unnecessary possessions. They are lovely, but the older I get, the more I realize what lies ahead can’t be satisfied by mere materiality. I can’t organize my world to find joy, but I can lighten the load so that I have more room in me for the delight and comfort I so seldom experienced as a child.
The more space that I open up in my heart to what God meant for me to know, the less I need to clutter myself with gods that need to be organized and eventually discarded for other things to take its place. I might have come to realize that peace comes without the need for any piece.
Becky Allender lives on Bainbridge Island with her loving, wild husband of 42 years. A mother and grandmother, she is quite fond of sunshine, yoga, Hawaiian quilting and creating 17th Century reproduction samplers. A community of praying women, loving Jesus, and the art of gratitude fill her life with goodness. She wonders what she got herself into with Red Tent Living!
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Rather than keep my possessions in any order, I let them fill the spaces around me–the outer manifestation of my interior (chaotic) life. Instead of trying to control things, I tried to control people. I don’t think either works particularly well, though, and I desire to walk through open doors with empty hands.
Madeline…you cut yourself short…. I think you give most friends the greatest amount of slack…
Becky – I read this twice thinking both times that your childhood and mine were very similar. I, too, use ordering of things to organize my inner turmoil. I always have. I, too, was raised in an angry atmosphere where there was no healthy touch or comfort. I, too, struggle with what to save and what to toss and trying to stop the desire to accumulate more to assuage some inner desire to feel better about myself. I want to come to the realization that, ” I can’t organize my world to find joy, but I can lighten the load so that I have more room in me for the delight and comfort I so seldom experienced as a child” as you so beautifully wrote.
We read to know we are not alone. I feel less alone after reading this.
Blessings to you this day!
yep…we are soul sisters…and I hope we meet some day!!!
Becky, this is a beautiful reflection that deeply resonates with me. The continued willingness to publicly, and artfully, share your process is an inspiration. Thank you
Yep…your turn!!!
We are on the same track!!! So fun!!
Yes yes!!!!… “ The more space that I open up in my heart to what God meant for me to know…” this is my desire for this next decade of my life!!!
Truly!! Ro….you get it!!Yep…your turn!!!
Becky – I thank God that you have shared your heart with us through this amazing writing. It’s the Holy Spirit in action for me and I am so grateful.
Dear Jen, I am not sure what you are saying but I am grateful that the Holy Spirit is at work in your actions. With love, Becky
I have been doing this work as well and finding it gives me more space for breathing. I love how you track with curiosity when you first started doing it. I imagine that world did feel safer.
I love that you are doing this too! With your skill and giftedness in helping so many give birth…I can only imagine the “space” that is needed to be present with the glory of each birth that you assist with.
Love this mom! I am grateful for all the ways you’ve helped us organize and pair down possessions! You have a gift and we need your touch again! Opening up space in your heart for God and possibility. ❤️