Over-stuffed

The aisles of Wal-Mart track the trends of America. Here, at the start of the new year, the displays offer attractive storage containers and organizing devices in every form and fashion imaginable, each promising the spaciousness and order we crave. They know we are all feeling encroached upon after a season of “stuffing” our faces, homes, and credit cards, and they are prepared to ride the financial wave of our new year’s resolutions.
Like many, I’ve renewed my zeal for decluttering my home this January, and it’s surprising how painful some items can be to sift through and reevaluate their role in my life.
I have a stack of brand-new books of learning games for reading and math, from when I was homeschooling. They watch me, reminding me of all that is possible. Yet, I haven’t opened them or used them. Taking them off of my central shelf and storing them elsewhere as a resource, or passing them on, seems an admission of defeat. I want to be the kind of mom who invents games, and infuses regular moments with amazing learning opportunities. Can I still do that without those books? Yes, I can. So I think I’ll replace them with a cd player and some music and audio books the kids and I can listen to over breakfast, or during dinner, or while playing mancala. I pause before removing the Baby Games book, which I flip through and think of all the rhymes I missed teaching the kids when they were 0-3, and how much more is possible than what we actually did. Before slipping into regret, I thank God for the special 0-3 activities we did manage to do, and think of someone else to bless the book with.
Do you sometimes experience that inward pang when you are about to get rid of, or sort through something? Maybe it’s that collection of cookbooks you never touch. But getting rid of them would mean you are never going to be the kind of cook who shops for capers and garnishes with pine nuts, and the loss of that ideal is too painful, so the gourmet magazines stack there, and continue to proclaim all that is possible, but not very doable.
Maybe it’s reams of parenting books which you know hold the missing pieces and key answers to all of your quandaries with the children, and they just await a season of poring over them to excavate and apply all the wisdom --later.
Or it could be the investment of scrap-booking materials, which make you feel cross-eyed to think about using, but promise the right kind of preserved memories –one day. I’m not suggesting we ruthlessly erase all such things from our lives, but be willing to re-evaluate them.
I’ve begun to ask myself what an item represents to me, and if it has a real role in the life I live and love, rather than the one I think I should be living. Releasing some of these less helpful things helps ensure that there is enough "prime real-estate" in my home to offer access to the items I truly love and regularly use.