Too Much of Everything

Those cluttered drawers and closets, attics and basements have a way of calling our names- as if they have some sort of chronic hold over us. We can forget about them for a time but we always know they are there – whispering to our inner psyche - ‘I’m here-don’t forget about me.’

They say we spend the first half of our lives collecting and the second half purging. That would leave me in the state of expunging. Having more than I need and needing less than I have.

The generation before me seemed to get by with very little. Yet many who lived through the Great Depression became tremendous savers of things, precisely because they had experienced scarcity. They saved string, jars, buttons, and anything that might someday prove useful - like the old saying ‘a jar of string too short to use.’ It's difficult to imagine living through the years of World War II, when even sugar and coffee were rationed, while today we walk into grocery stores with shelves overflowing with endless choices. Somewhere along the way collecting and saving may have become part of our DNA. Did saving what we might need become keeping what we no longer need?

I decided this week to tackle the storage closet in the eaves of our house. I was startled to see how many clothing items I had held onto over the years-how many pieces I had bought because they were on sale-rather than because I loved them. How each piece seemed to hold a memory and an attachment that went deeper than cloth -a time of life, an event, a person who gifted them to me-even an old orange Sag Harbor sweatshirt my mom used to wear. An old sweatshirt still carries the memory of her wearing it - a part of her that remains close. Perhaps it is deciding whether we can let go of the object without letting go of the memory. It never is as easy as they profess- ‘hold it and decide if you love it or not’. Each piece speaks of another time, an emotion, a value beyond the price tag.

I must say it is still a work in progress and my hope is that each piece finds a good home-but I would also say that those clearing-out days are the most challenging days of the year-and they teach us many things.

I remember when my aunt and uncle reached a certain age-they professed they didn’t want us to gift them with another thing (excluding ice cream of course). They were satisfied with what they had and didn’t want to have to deal with ‘more’. They lived contentedly with the same furniture, the multipurpose jars and serving spoons, the same sofa with the pink floral slip cover-and instead of buying more of what they didn’t need- they would gift each other with things such as donations to PBS and I’m sure a host of other charitable organizations.

And now - at this stage of life-with many more closets to clear out and reorganize-I have come up with my own measure- as I hold each article I ask myself- ‘could this piece make someone else happy?’ Is this more useful in the world than stored away in my closet?’ “How will it feel inside to live with just enough on the outside?’ And if I am about to purchase something new, I ask myself- ‘is this something I really love?’ And then perhaps I will be able to live with fewer things -cleaner closets – clearer psyche - and I will be surrounded by things I love.

Letting go is never easy, but for me it brings an inner peace that seems to grow with every cleared shelf and emptied drawer. Perhaps it isn't really about having less. Perhaps it's about making room for what matters most.

And maybe that's the surprising thing about those closets that keep calling our names. They aren't simply asking us to clean them out. They may be asking us to take another look at what we carry, what we treasure, and what we are finally ready to release.

And that old orange sweatshirt of my mother's? I hesitantly placed it in the giveaway pile. But the pile is still in the house, and so is the sweatshirt.

Perhaps some things are just a bit harder to let go of.