You Can't Take it With You...

Image result for moving boxes
...I mean you could, but why would you?

In the last few weeks I've started a major purge of my stuff in preparation to move to a new house, MY house, with two people I adore.  This is probably the first time I've managed to do a purge this widespread and all-encompassing.

After college I moved five times in five years. New Brunswick--> Farmingdale--> Highland Park --> Farmingdale --> Bound Brook --> Stockton.  Such is apartment living when you share with roommates and/or significant others.  I've been in Stockton nearly 4 years now.  It's the only apartment I've had where I've managed to UNPACK everything, put down some roots, prune off some unhealthy ties, and live my life more or less on my terms.  I've learned a lot in my time here, but I have one more thing I need to do... let things go.

I don't ONLY mean to let go of physical, tangible items.  I'm someone who tends to hang onto the past, hence why I have so many possessions I couldn't bear to part with until recently.  Each thing has a memory attached.  But what does someone like me do when something awful happens and becomes part of your past? Once you've worried it to death and processed it and talked through it and dealt?

You stop looking back, and move forward.

I recently blew through Marie Kondo's book, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.  This lady is the Bob Ross of cleaning, no joke.  She took my ideas about my stuff and my space and completely flipped them on their heads. Instead of deciding what to get rid of, she had me deciding what to keep.  Her only criteria to keep ANYTHING is "does it spark joy?".  She advises leaving things like photos, cards, mementos, and the like for last as you go through every item you own.  These take the longest to decide on.  As you hold and make a decision on each of these kinds of items, you process your past.  I have A LOT of stuff with memories attached and I gotta say, many of those memories definitely don't spark joy.  Time to go.

There are things I don't need I'll likely still hang onto, simply because they make me happy.  Buying art supplies and making art are definitely two separate hobbies, and they'll be prying Casper's saddle and tack from my cold, dead hands.  But I don't need ten years worth of Wicked Faire badges.  I don't need old bad paintings from college.  I don't need cards from the Wasband. 

I want my new home to be happy and full of love, and that's all I intend to bring with me.  


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