The Things We Keep

Halfway through January, I’m still renewing {my word for 2015} the decor around my home. I don’t want to call it decluttering exactly, because it's more like streamlining and rearranging what I already have. 

But as I'm renewing, I'm finding that the things I thought I couldn't live without, aren't really missed once they're gone. And when I decide to part with them, I suddenly see them with fresh eyes and wonder why I even had them at all.

I wonder if you feel the same way about your stuff?

I feel as if I’ve been actually streamlining for the past year, but I don't want you to get the wrong idea. If you were to visit my house, you'd probably think I still have plenty of things displayed. I've heard the comments. 

"You sure have a lot to look at."
"You certainly don't need to shop for anything else."
"You have so many little things around, I feel like I'm going to break something."

From the time I had my very own place, I've treasured my things, remembering where I got it, who I was with, and what memory it sparked. Although I’ve moved numerous times since then which forced me to scrap rather than pack, I’ve still managed to maintain a fair amount of stuff. It’s organized and neat, but there’s a lot of it.

I feel like I have these treasuring tendencies because my family {except for my mother} doesn't treasure. My live-in-the-moment grandmother threw away everything. To her, vintage meant garbage, and she liked everything new. 

I remember asking her where all her keepsakes were from years gone by, and she laughed and said why would she ever need that old junk? 

My other grandmother died when my dad was a small child and he says my grandfather threw everything away that belonged to his mother so he wouldn’t be reminded of her.

So since I came from such an unsentimental family of trashers, I became a saver. 

I’ve always dreamed about discovering an attic full of treasures, or a trunk filled with vintage clothing, or a desk with a diary from long ago locked inside.

But last year for the first time, I was inspired to streamline. I replaced lamps, swapped out mirrors, and rearranged pictures on my walls. I got rid of some furniture that freed up empty space and I resisted the urge to fill it back up. I packed up boxes of dishes I never used and empty frames waiting for pictures.

I asked my sister to tell me what should go since she hauls away my cast-offs to a resale shop that supports my niece and nephew’s school {which gives me extra motivation to donate}. 

She told me I have too many figurine lamps, too many candles, and pointed out an angel candleholder she particularly disliked.

I told her I liked that angel candleholder and was keeping him, but in my rearranging, I accidentally knocked him over, breaking his wing and arm. 

I thought I would feel sorry to lose him but minutes after his untimely demise, I felt a strange sense of relief that now I had a valid reason to discard him as I packed up his pieces and carried him {gently} to the trash. 

When I texted my sister the news that he was gone, she sent back an {inappropriate and insincere} emoticon of a smiling, happy angel to celebrate my loss.

But in all this renewing, I think I'm discovering that I’m the one being refurbished, not my house. 

When my nephew broke a favorite glass that was part of a set of fashion drinking glasses and handed the pieces to me so contrite and apologetic, I immediately realized I didn't care about the glass. All of my self-imposed structure and order and rules about where things belonged was actually just selfishness. 

I don't want to value order and stuff and trinkets over the people in my life. 

It was painful at first to give stuff away, but it got a lot easier as I realized I didn’t miss them nearly as much as I thought I would, and instead of regretting what was gone, I found that many times I didn't even remember it. 

And this gives me hope.

Because I can be different than I thought I could be and realize that adjustments and transformations are possible, and heading in a new direction is needed, and things not looking like I imagined them are still very good.

So I let my niece and nephew eat their McDonald’s happy meals {with plenty of ketchup} while sitting on my white couch. 

I don’t mind if my niece spreads papers across my desk and writes in my notebooks and colors on my printer paper while she pretends she's a grown-up working at an office. 

I’m glad my nephew can flop on my couch to read a book and toss around my throw pillows and walk through my house leaving wet flipflop prints.

Those are the memories I want to keep instead of the things that don't matter. And I guess an angel had to lose its wings to prove it to me.

Is there something that can look different than you imagined it? Are there things that could be changed that could end up stretching you?

I'm linking up with my friends at Holley Gerth's place at Coffee for your Heart and with Bonnie Gray at the Faith Barista. Click the images for more from my blogging friends!