Something stirred me on to get my house in order recently and I’ve been busy going through storage boxes full of stuff I haven’t seen for months or maybe years.
Clothes that had been stored for a summer day, a thin day, a rainy day, a grow into day found their way to new homes via charity shops or friends. Shoes were sorted, anything that was worn down, shoddy and scruffy, grown out of or missing its opposite number was binned.
Seeing the boxes flattened and space appearing was the green light and inspiration for sorting out the clutter that has taken over the house. A lot of stuff was rubbish, broken, beyond economical repair, missing a bit or had no upcycling benefit so it was binned. The rest is sitting in open topped boxes ready to be taken to a car boot. I don’t need 9 Moroccan tea lights, 7 tea pots, 11 jugs, 3 cake stands, countless buttons, 5 glass bottles. I just don’t need it anymore.
I didn’t stop at that, oh no I carried on. Under the sink cupboard, bathroom shelves. Then with a clear space I sat down and felt a sense of calm and a surge of strength. The strength to admit that some friendships have wilted beyond recovery.
This week has been cathartic. Clearing out boxes has helped me to clear my head.