War on Trash

This past week, I declared a War on Trash. I have been getting rid of (and donating to charity) clothes, toys, and other things that I don’t use on a regular enough basis to justify the space they take up. This has been really really difficult for me, because I come from a long line of folk who hold on to all kinds of junk just in case. Case in point, my father. Do you remember those brown polyester shirts that were in style back in the day? Yeah, they came back for a minute, but now they are gone again. My dad still has em in his closet, and for what? Love ya dad, but you’re a pack rat. Back to me. I have been getting rid of all kinds of stuff. It feels liberating. Every day, I clear out an area of the house. Today it was my silverware drawer where all of those parmesan packets and crushed pepper packets and chopsticks and blue kool-aid have accumulated. Now it’s sparkly clean. *ting*
I realized that sometimes I have held onto junk long after it’s lost its value simply because I was in the habit of holding on to it. Because I knew where it was and it had always been there and that felt secure. When I think about all of the things I kept in my home and in my heart because they were comfortable, I just want to get rid of all the trash in my life.