Movement out the window catches my attention. The brook runs high and fast from the earlier rain. The water’s fierceness draws me, for a brief moment, from the chaos swirling inside me. My mind is in turmoil.
My mother looks down on me from the perch where I keep her photo. Would she approve? Perhaps not for herself had she still been alive; she loved to hold onto stuff. But I have to believe that she would understand I have to do this. She would definitely like to see me get rid of music she didn’t like or approve of. Yeah, she would understand. She would support me. She smiles at me from her photo.
Today I went through my couple hundred CDs and half… or almost half went into a box to go out to the curb. I don’t know why I hang onto some of this. I can’t even really say it’s for the memories. Maybe the real reason is because it is MINE; my stuff, stuff that once meant a lot to me.
The key here is: once meant a lot. So, just because it meant a lot at one time, does that mean I have to keep it forever? For what purpose do I even care anymore? Many things have been stored in boxes for over 10 years. All it does is take up space – of which I have precious little now. What’s the problem in letting it go?
Letting Go of Stuff
The past is stacked
into a box
with care
soon to be carried
to the curb
free for the taking
Do it!
Don’t think!
Don’t remember!
Don’t feel!
I wrap my heart
in numbness
lest it starts to break
lest I refuse to let go
The past is
the past
and not needed
today or tomorrow
I hold myself tight
lock down feelings
so I won’t miss
what was once dear
I have to do this
Too late
my throat closes
my eyes leak
already I feel the loss.
---SW 09/2015
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