Learning to Let Go

G.K. Chesterton once wrote: "Angels fly because they take themselves lightly." If that's true, I recently decided, I'd better start letting go of some stuff or I'm never going to earn my wings.

So, in good faith, I packed 30 grocery bags of books and magazines this summer and donated them to the library. It was not easy. In fact it was excrutiating. I am from the "you-can-tell-a-lot-about-a-person-from-her-bookshelves" school of thought, and had amassed a library to represent me.

I lamented over every title: from a book of Christopher Robin's prayers to a copy of E.B. White's Charlotte's Web; from Jane Austin's Pride and Prejudice to Alice Walker's The Color Purple; from John Gray's Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus to Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which I've never read, by the way. But I planned to.

Just like I planned to put six shoe boxes of photos into albums, organize my cassettes in alphabetical order, paint my toenails--10 different colors; make homemade granola and yogurt, sew a quilt from old pairs of blue jeans, feng shui every room in my home, earn an advanced degree in at least two more subjects, and earn a million dollars before I retire.

All well-intentioned plans; all out-dated. This is what I discovered as I cleared my book shelves. I am surrounded by stuff that screams "Do me, do me, do me;" none of which I am motivated to accomplish because they represent former versions of myself. Its akin to holding onto size eight clothes when you know damn well the closest to an eight you will ever get again is your shoe size.

So now the boxes of photos have been winnowed down to two; the cassettes have been dumped; not so difficult to do when I realized I no longer own a cassette player and doubt that they are manfuctured any longer. If I paint my nails once a year I am lucky, and trying to reach my toenails is a strain, anyway, so I trashed the nail polish. Why bother making homemade yogurt when I don't like the taste of it? Afterall, its not like its chocolate pudding! The homemade yogurt maker went to the Goodwill along with the seven pairs of jeans. A blue jean quilt? What was I thinking?

I don't need to feng shui my house, I just need to simplify my surroundings.

I have enough academic degrees. I don't need to know more, I'd rather feel more.

A million dollars? Don't foresee me earning it, but I am open, open, open to receiving it from unexpected income streams. Of course, I would be willing to share. That's the only way I could travel lightly.