It’s still early March and many parts of the country are living with ice and snow, while others have had unseasonable heat. Here in Nashville, we’ve gone from shirt sleeve weather to bitter cold and back again. Today the sun is shining. My neighbor’s tulip magnolia tree is in full bloom, and my daffodils have poked through the brown ground.
Like a bear that knows it’s time to come out of hibernation, I woke up ready to clean. I started with the “catch all” kitchen bowl (yours may be a drawer), moved on to the cabinets, then the magazine racks in the sitting room, and finally the bookshelves that were full to bursting. Then I started in on the shelves in my office. I bravely dove into a stack of subscription material that has been collecting for a couple of years. I remember when I subscribed, thinking it would be hugely valuable. I got bolder, carrying out armloads of books and packing them up for either the library or the used book store.
As in most clean-up and throw out projects, my office looks worse than when I started. But it won’t stay that way. And I already feel freer, lighter, ready to take on the next part of the task.
As I went through that which had (at one point) seemed essential, it reminded me of the stuff we accumulate in our lives… and I don’t mean just physical stuff. Are there relationships you’ve outgrown? A job that used to represent security but has become a drag on your spirit and your imagination? An attitude or belief that holds you back from being all you can be? A habit or behavior that limits your options?
If so, remember–you can clean it up! Maybe you start small, like I did with the kitchen drawer. Maybe you rearrange, and maybe you just throw it out. It’s your choice. Take it at your pace.
What I have learned is that just starting is the first step. You don’t have to do it all at once, and things may get messy before they get better, but you will be on the right track.
So come out of that winter cave, look around, feel that springtime urge. This week get rid of something that doesn’t serve you and let me know what you realized.
Until next Tuesday,
Elizabeth