Ironically, the first thing I did this morning was try to decide what room I was going to start in.
It’s my first day of fall break and one of the many items on my to-do list is beginning the purge.
As I have sorted through my years of trauma, I discovered that I have created piles of stuff in an effort to create something that stays. Something permanent. Something to pay attention to.
Once I moved to Tennessee though, I realized the piles were actually suffocating me.
But still, they have remained.
I have watched people in my life lose everything they own to house fires, tornadoes, and other disasters, and I realized I just can’t do it anymore.
If I had to locate the items that actually mean anything to me in my home, I would have to sift through piles of nonsense and junk mail about credit cards.
Enough.
I sit at my desk writing this blog and throwing away papers.
None of it is going with me anyways, so why should it take up space in my life now?
This whole process gives me tremendous anxiety, but I know on the other side of that anxiety is clutter-free surfaces and actual joy.
Wish me luck.
❤
The Yellow Door Life 
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