Today, I cleaned
out my closet. It doesn’t seem like any great feat, but if you know me, you
know I have hoarding tendencies. I keep too much, for too long, far beyond
their purpose and long after their expiration. So today, I decided would be my
day. Today, I get rid of every shirt that’s too short and too tight, every pair
of jeans that could fit if only I lost
another 5-7 pounds, every shoe that has been collecting dust, every sweater
with a hole in the sleeve and every last shirt that I can date back to high
school.
Today, I let go of everything
that I’ve held on to for far too long.
Leading up to this
point, every time I thought about it I would either procrastinate OR I would literally
have anxiety. “Well, what if I want to wear it” or “What about if I lose this
weight, I will need these” and “I
know I haven’t worn it in 2 years but
I might…”
My irrational fear
of letting go of just a few articles of clothing prompted me to examine
myself just a little further.
If I was this
reluctant to let go of these items, things that hold little to no value, things
that no longer fit, that have outworn their lifespan, then how many more things
(bigger things, more significant things) have I refused to let go of?
I began to think of
all the shirts and sweaters I've accumulated that have seen their fair share of
wears and washes, shirts that have holes in them combined with a botched patch
job. It reminded me of situations in my life right now, situations that are broken beyond reconciliation yet I continue to do a "patch
job" on them, trying desperately to
hold on to those things that once worked well, but are now far beyond repair. I
began to think of all the situations in my life whether it be attitudes,
relationships or even responsibilities that once fit me well, but now they’ve become too snug, ill-fitting
and anything but flattering. I began to think of the bad experiences, the
offenses, the hurts and pains that like my shoes have piled up, in the dark
corners of the closet, doing nothing but taking up space, collect dust, leaving
little room for anything else.
It occurred to me that the root of my
hoarding is an irrational fear of letting go. A fear that if I let go, there will
be a void, an emptiness, a place that may never be filled again. Like many, my desperate
attempt to cling onto everything (and everyone) has been driven by a deep fear
that if I let go, I may never have something to fill that space again.
In my limited mind I’ve been afraid that
letting go = losing and losing = emptiness. Little did I know that letting go
doesn't mean losing, it means growing. Letting go is a necessary and healthy
part of growth. Growing out of the things that no longer suit you and making
room for the things that are to come is part of a healthy life cycle. Look at the trees; do they not shed their leaves
each fall? Do they not remain barren through the winter? And do they not grow
new leaves once again in the spring season?
Today, I cleaned out more than just my closet. I cleaned out that place in my heart where I’ve harbored hurt and offense for too long, that place in my mind that has been cluttered with ill- fitting and un-flattering thoughts, that place in my deep down inside where my fears have held my faith captive.
I encourage you, to look around, life was not meant to remain the same. Let go. You’ll never know
what awaits you until you have the courage to let go and move on…
