Letting go to let in new possibilities

I’m about to begin a new chapter in my life. It’s time to step off the treadmill. A temporary hiatus in Brittany will allow me time to take stock and investigate how to set myself up as a freelance PR consultant and writer. It will also give me a precious opportunity to spend more time with my two year old daughter.

Surrounded by empty packing boxes a few days before the removal van is due, I survey the task in hand. I am struck by how much ’stuff’ I have accumulated, not only in the last year (since my separation), but in the last 20 years, when I first flew the nest.

As I contemplate this uncomfortable truth, I spy a green and blue striped vase, a relic from university days, staring pleadingly at me from the corner of the room. But its not just a sad old chipped vase, which has overstayed its welcome, there is a plethora of much less functional items filling up drawers and cluttering shelves.

Of course many of these odds and ends have a sentimental, if not functional value: old photographs of loved ones (taken before the advent of digital cameras); a miniature reproduction Christ the Redeemer (dear Rio de Janeiro, how you stole my heart); and ‘yellow bunny’, who has ‘stood’ by me, literally, for as long as I can remember.

My argument being that one man’s junk may be another man’s precious memory, point of reference, or inspiration.

I tentatively open up cupboards and peer under beds to discover that this theory has its limits.  I am in denial about much of my possessions such as clothes that no longer fit or are suitable for a 40 year old mother, or the fantastical notion that I will become a dab hand at crafting. And please tell me I’m not alone in getting only as far as actually watching the pilates DVD from the comfort of my sofa – admiring the tutor’s rippling abdominals and the stunning backdrop?

But there are bigger ‘skeletons’ in the closet. The wedding dress, stuffed uncomfortably into a small box, a reminder of my ill-fated union. And the moses basket, now functioning as an oversized day-bed for my baby’s doll. But its not just letting go of the crib, is it? It’s accepting that my baby-making days are dwindling.

Biting the bullet, I quickly snap and upload photos of the dress and crib onto Ebay. Bags of trashy novels and baby toys are bundled into carrier bags chartered for a charity shop. Now that really wasn’t so hard was it? Energised, I start throwing away shoes – yes shoes, for heaven’s sake!

The decluttering is far from complete, but at least I’ve made a start. The need to reduce my physical baggage forced me to address the mental baggage I was still carrying – of shattered dreams from a previous chapter in my life. So as well as reducing removal costs, my mental ‘decluttering’ has created the space for new possibilities that may be just round the corner…