I moved to a new neighborhood a few months ago, and I was shocked at the number of things I have accumulated over the years. I never realized for example that I owned so many purses. When did that happen? Growing up, I promised myself, I would never turn into my mother who owns an ever increasing collection of purses... Today, there is container full of purses, I may wear one day, in my basement.
Basements, by the way, are a terrible thing! I never had one, and now I wonder how full it will get by the time I move on to my next destination. Everything seemed to fit all crammed together in my own bedroom apartment (sans basement), and with double the space (plus basement), I wonder how every even managed to fit. Moving on....
I sometimes wonder why I need to own so many pens. I mean, I am never going to use them all...but you know what, almost every single one of them has a special place in my heart. Some were given to me, some were purchased in special places, some were stolen borrowed from special places (Do not judge me! It is better than stealing towels!), some I have owned for years, and they simply remind me of a special time in my life.
I like to call myself a self aware/practical hoarder. I tend to keep things with sentimental value for a long time, until one day, the need for uncluttered space takes over. (The second bucket of pens did not survive the move...). My life is this constant battle between the need to see clearly ahead and the need to hold on to my past, which I know is not uncommon. Although, I have often wondered where the sweet spot would be. Is it the place where we instinctively know to make room for bigger and better things? Is it the place where older things do not matter as much anymore, and their mere presence does not mean that I have failed in some way?Wouldn't I like to know...
eed
PS: The purses will find their way to Goodwill by the weekend...promise!
PPS: Actually, basements are great! It doubles as my personal home gym, so I shouldn't be so hard on mine.
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