The less you own, the harder it is to hide from everything still wrong with you. All of the dreams you have yet to realize, even now that your childhood is startlingly far behind you, are suddenly so much more starkly visible once you can’t distract yourself by petting fabric swatches or rearranging your bookshelves.
We’re always saying life is short, but honestly, if you stop staring at paint chips and shopping for throw pillows and arranging vases, if you have so little clothing (let alone accessories like scarves, necklaces, or earrings, of which I own none) that choosing an outfit is hardly an artistic endeavor, you would be surprised at how much time you have and how absolutely terrifying it can feel to have nowhere to put that energy.
I keep wanting to do at least a fraction of this quest -- and the state of my clutter has improved, especially since my course started and my academic clutter has focused specifically to SLP-related paraphernalia. But god, the wardrobe. How to deal with this! And when she talked about throwing out photos and letters, it got me thinking of my entire drawer filled with such; I am a sentimental idiot and every little moment from the past stored in little notes, birthday letters and scribbles are lovingly protected from the dustbin. I think I must learn to pick only the few precious ones and throw the rest out.
The quest is still long, winding and never-ending?
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