Everyone has a different thresh-hold for things. When what fills our house turns to clutter I lose the ability to see individuals in the crowd and begin filling big black bags with whatever I lay hands on. I’ve had to fish the checkbook out of the recycle bin before, one of my husband’s paychecks out of the trash, and just recently I almost donated my favorite black skirt because it’d gotten lost in the pile of rejected clothes. I’ve definitely regretted some of my purges - like the time I decided I would only buy records, and tossed all my cds, or the time I decided to give up makeup entirely. My enthusiasm gets the better of me sometimes; when I come to my senses I mourn my losses and move on, my memory isn’t good enough to mourn lost things for long.
I like to purge my home seasonally. This autumn’s purge began yesterday, when I broke yet another wineglass and felt the need to clean and organize the rest of them. So far I’ve dumped a teapot that leaks, a dish Yarrow broke, five books I hate that have been taking up space in my shelves for a year, a collection of bent nails, and a few pans that didn’t store well in the shed. I love rediscovering my things when I purge, I have about a dozen frames in the shed, just waiting for pictures. I’m looking forward to making space for them in the yurt and in the kitchen.
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