It’s Sunday, one of my favorite days of the week.
I had apple cake for breakfast because why not. Usually I’m a savory breakfast kinda gal, the exception being when I have leftover cake sitting on my counter. There’s nothing quite as delightful as espresso and slice of cake to start the day.
Yesterday I popped into Experimental Vintage to chat with my favorite rug gals and left inspired after weeks in a creative lull. So after finishing my cake alongside Chester and Borah snuggles, I got to work dusting and rearranging shelves. At every turn I found things to get rid of. I kept dropping odds and ends into my post for sale and giveaway boxes. A few times I paused to take measurements and photos of items for Facebook Marketplace.
At one point my husband looked at me and said “you’re selling that too? What’s next?”
I’m in this odd and liberating space in life where I keep testing how much I truly need. I’ve been in this space for months now, and while I haven’t quite gotten to the bottom of it yet, I wholeheartedly believe that there’s no coincidence in timing. The world is flat out chaotic. I ebb and flow between humility, resilience and despair.
Getting rid of stuff is cathartic. Perhaps a tool for self-regulation. The designer in me often questions the declutterer because I’ll be honest, my home isn’t exactly picture perfect minimalism. In its current state it actually reminds me of the early days of homeownership where our space was a hodgepodge of thrifted college furnishings and hand-me-downs from family. The only difference between then and now is that I actually love every piece of furniture I currently own.
I’ve even started going as far as getting rid of utilitarian pieces, like the bookshelf that I didn’t love. So now I have piles of books stacked on the floor around my house. Some would argue that’s a design trend. I personally find it to be quite dysfunctional. And yet, I prefer it to having a mediocre shelf that doesn’t bring me joy. Plus, now I've made space for a bookshelf that I do love to enter my life.
Again, I haven’t gotten to the bottom of what this is for me, but in all my moments of reflection – it’s an act of letting go in exchange for faith. Faith in myself. Faith in my community. Faith in our people. Faith in the world and our collective humanity.
In a time when it seems millions are gripping as hard as humanly possible to their beliefs, their ways of being, to what’s comfortable, I’m making a conscious effort to do the opposite. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that I'm being pushed to do the opposite by forces I'm still learning to understand. And so I keep surrendering over and over and over.
Some days I avoid it. Occasionally weeks go by and I get swallowed by the chaos, both within me and outside of me, until my body becomes so unbearably tense and uncomfortable that I do yet another round of purging. Purging emotions. Purging beliefs. Purging belongings.
There is no concrete end goal. Simply a continual commitment to faith and surrender.
And with each purge I find myself opening a little bit more. I find myself more deeply connected to not just friends and family, but to my clients and even strangers I pass by on the street or in the grocery store. I find my commitment to community continues to deepen. My capacity for love, too.
As a professional organizer, I by no means expect every client to embark on a soul journey of letting go. However, it is every bit of my intention to give clients a taste of the freedom found in surrender. For everything we do is a muscle to be exercised. Whether it’s self compassion, forgiveness, acts of kindness or letting go – the more we do it, the easier it gets. Which might be precisely why I keep coming back for more.
It’s Sunday evening now and I’m tired. The cake is gone. So is the accent chair that I “had to have” nine months ago. It's off to live it's next life in a lash and beauty studio. My boxes of items to sell and donate are sitting in a corner of the living room. They’ll sit there for the night. Possibly a few weeks until the urgency to surrender comes tapping at my door once more.
It’s a wild world out there dear friends. Don’t be afraid to turn it off and get quiet. Chances are, if you get quiet enough you’ll hear a tap at your door too; an invitation to taste the freedom found in letting go. A taste sweet enough that you may just find yourself coming back for more, one bookshelf, accent chair or donation box at a time.
So go forth and be bold. Be courageous. Surrender to the unknown. Strengthen your faith in what you cannot yet see. Have cake instead of eggs for breakfast. There's a freedom awaiting you in the slow exercise of letting go.
With love and light,
Feeling inspired by this post? Grab the link and share with a friend or drop a comment below to inspire others in the Little Storied Home community.
Kommentare