Why is it easier to get rid of someone else's stuff, and so difficult to get rid of your own?
Being asked to contribute to this series caused a number of reactions.
I was flattered.
I was nervous--I'm not an experienced blogger.
I'm not even sure how to get this over to The Domestic Pagan blog.
Crap, how do I begin?
Begin by answering the question:
Why is it easier to get rid of someone else's stuff, and so difficult to get rid of your own?
The answer lies in the word "own".
I have nothing vested in your stuff. It holds no memories for me. I don't "own" your stuff, therefore I have no difficulty pitching out your stuff. However, I own my Stuff. I'm vested in it. My Stuff is tangible proof that I was here--or there--or somewhere. My Stuff is the Stuff of Memories, the Stuff of Dreams, the Stuff of Nightmares, and the Stuff of Fear.
Like packrats and magpies, we stuff our nests with baubles, bangles, and blings. Like dragons, we guard our hoards. We justify our
The Stuff takes control. The Stuff wears you down. The Stuff not only traps energy, it saps energy from you. (Are you tired? Depressed? Do you have to hunt for things like your keys, your glasses, your coffee cup?)
Is it conceivable that the clutter is a reflection of your mind? Your inner turmoil? Does clutter get in the way of your life, your choices, your family, your craft?
Yes.
I got tired of being ruled by the clutter.
Something magical happened.
I found a book: Magical Housekeeping by Tess Whitehurst. I bought the kindle edition. I found her clutter-clearing ritual on page ten. It worked so well that I bought a paperback edition, too. I told a friend about it--I referred to it as "a positive affirmation technique"--when she complained about her struggle with the mess in her home office. She called me 3 days later absolutely aux ange about it.1
Tess Whitehurst's Clutter Clearing Jumpstart Ritual
Decide where you will begin. A room is
too much? Start with a drawer, or the closet, or your desk. Take the step with
which you are comfortable .
You will need:
noisemaker
(bell, rattles, drum, clapping hands, whatever)
1
white candle
lighter
or matches
your
favorite hot, energizing beverage
(coffee, tea, hot Dr. Pepper with orange slices)
"Once you've decided on this
starter area, clap your hands very loudly around the inside or outside of the
area to loosen and unstick the energy contained within.2 Then wash
your hands and prepare the beverage. Before lighting the candle, hold it in
both hands and focus your attention on it as you say:
I triumph over clutter in every way.
I am the master of my domain.
Light the candle and sit in front of it.
Hold the beverage in both hands and focus your attention on it as you say:
I now charge this beverage with the energies
of purity, lightness, and
motivation.
Then fully relax as you enjoy the
beverage, knowing that you'll be ready and willing (and maybe even excited) to
begin your clutter-clearing project as soon as you've finished the last sip. Let
the candle continue to burn as you clear, and don't be surprised if you end up
clearing out a bit more than you'd planned. Light the candle each time you
clear, repeating the ritual if desired." (Whitehurst, 2010).
I chose to start in my bathroom, a small
space. I put the lit candle in the window. I threw out all of the Mary Kay
inventory (I stopped using it in the 1990s). Actually, I stopped wearing
make-up years ago--why support an industry that manipulates women for profit? I
tossed all the old make-up. I tossed the ratty towels and stained, ratty
washcloths and the harsh chemical cleansers. The unused curling irons--trash.
The foot spa--boxed up and in the storage closet (which needed to be cleaned
out, too). I ended up with three lawn bags of junk. And I felt good. I scrubbed
with vinegar and water. I steam mopped the floor.
The next day, I repeated the ritual. My
target: the infamous walk-in storage closet. I had packing boxes ready and
packed up the winter clothes that were 3 sizes too big. The clothes from the
garage sale that didn't sell. The boxes of floral components that hadn't seen
the light of day in 2 years. Out. Repacked, restacked, organized. The clothes
went to the handicapped resale shop. I think the garbage men hate me.
My bedroom. The bookcases. My clothes
closet. The kitchen cabinets and pantry. The den. The dining room. The living
room. My formerly-Baptist-and-now-Roman-Catholic boarder started in on her
bathroom, bedroom, and her sewing room.3 I know
the garbage men hate me.
I made them cookies by way of apology.
The candle sits in the dining room. Saturday
mornings, instead of running, I dust, sweep, vacuum, and mop before taking my
mother to breakfast. I've not lit the candle in months--but it will be lit after
school is out. I'm going to get the last bastion of clutter: the desk and file
cabinet.
The energy flow around here is
incredible.
Walk in beauty.
_____________________________________________________________________________
1. She's not a practitioner of the
craft. I am still in the broom closet.
2. I have these nifty
bead and seed rattles, so that's what I used. The sound needs to be clear and
loud. Things that have been undisturbed for years have tremendous inertia.
3.
I don't think she knows what hit her; it wasn't intentional. Contagious,
perhaps, but not intentional.
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