Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Spring cleaning

Around this time of year I get the itch to start spring cleaning.  There is more visible sun, which lifts my spirits and brings me out of my winter doldrums.  For several years I've had a "winter break" from school which leaves me with too much time on my hands.  The need to scrub, organize and purge is overwhelming, and within a day or so the compulsion gets the better of me and I'm in the zone for at least a week.

That itch hit yesterday at 4:45 pm, and by the time Ken came home from work at 6:00 I had torn half the kitchen apart.  Some things are going to the Open Door Free Store in Concord*, and some items are being offered to family members.  Some items may still arrive on the doorstep of my childhood church as they prepare for their spring yard sale.  Regardless - they will be departing our home and finding new places to live, to be loved, and to be used instead of being stuck in a drawer or cabinet, gathering dust.

I remember walking into the kitchen yesterday afternoon and feeling overwhelmed by "stuff."  Most people wish for more; I often find myself praying for less.  I have been blessed with friends and family who have shared many gifts over the years from their own homes - bread makers they no longer use, a random crock pot, another blender.  I am not without guilt in this, either; I have a love for dish- and glass-ware, and for many years purchased several sets that caught my eye and I simply could not live without.  I have a love for kitchen gadgets in particular, and so our kitchen is often the place of "item concentration" in the center of our home.

But the stuff started to weigh me down yesterday, and I knew it was time to get rid of it. 

There is a character in one of my favorite movies, "Labyrinth," named the Junk Lady.  She carries everything she owns on her back, and as she moves through life and continues to acquire items, they, too, take their place on the ever-growing pile of things she carries on her shoulders.  In the movie she works to help Sarah, the main character, create a junk pile on her own shoulders, of all of the "things" Sarah finds important - a pretty trinket, a stuffed animal, a lipstick.  In this moment Sarah forgets the most important thing - her quest to find her brother - and gets caught up in becoming, herself, a Junk Lady.

Standing in my kitchen, I felt the weight of the Junk Lady standing behind me, urging me on.  I have so many things - wonderful things, beautiful things, useful things, gifted things - but the weight of these things keeps me from moving forward with the most important thing - living my life.  In order to move forward, I need to leave some things behind.

I would by lying if there wasn't also some need to clean, to purge, in an effort to lessen the burden of that task when I am no longer here.  Trust me when I say I don't know anything you don't know; I haven't gotten any "news," nothing has changed.  I am not planning for my death, rather, I am planning for my life.

The lessened weight gives me energy to get on with the business of living.

Next task - the sewing/craft room.  And that is going to be a challenge.

* The Open Door Free Store in Concord is organized and run by several churches in the area, and carries items from kitchenware to books to linens to toys to clothing of all shapes and sizes, to furniture and appliances.  They are a place for those in need - no questions asked, no strings attached.  Everything in the store is, as the name implies, FREE - come in and take what you need.  I urge any of you within driving distance of Concord to consider items you may no longer use, that can be used by others, and make a donation to this wonderful place.  As the proprietor told me, "No donation is too small; a single person starting over only needs one fork and one plate, not an entire set of china."  Let your inner Junk Lady find that fork and plate and share it with someone in need.

3 comments:

  1. I'm going out to buy a St. Bernard to help rescue you once you enter the sewing/craft room.

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  2. I think my dad said it best when he told me he retired and then "simplified his life." I too crave to have fewer "things" surrounding me and instead surrounding myself with the people in life that I love and that inspire me. You are one of those people, Nance. Ken fits the bill too, unless of course he's serious about that St. Bernard...

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  3. Jean - your dad is a wise man. My parents started to simplify when they moved a few years ago - which meant my sister and I picked up their discards. Unfortunately, they're all beautiful antiques, glassware and tea cups and artwork that I am loathe to part with. But they all currently reside, delicately packed, in boxes in the extra bedroom, so they share no beauty with anyone else. I'd rather someone else enjoy all these beautiful items that I just don't have room for.

    And Ken is completely serious - because if you've ever seen the craft room, you know the choice is between a St. Bernard and the National Guard. I may go in, but may never be found again...

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