It’s a strange feeling when you learn to let go.

It can be really challenging to let go, whether it’s things, stuff, accumulated junk, perceived slights, missed opportunities,  whatever it may be. Knowing what you can comfortably give up, or get rid of and not have it gnaw at you is a hard won skill to have. Oh you are going to have the opposite to buyers remorse a few times when you start out. Misjudge what a thing means to you. But if you keep at it, and be as down to earth and real with yourself you’ll know exactly what you can, and cannot part with. Knowing your limitations is good. You can test it, expand it incrementally, but you have to know where that line is drawn so as to not hurt yourself (feelings – not physically). 20 year old me would lose his mind to hear about clearing out books, and clothes. I carted 24 or more 76L tote boxes of books and stuff around with me from move to move for years. Why? Because my stuff was what felt like home to me, not the location. We moved a fair bit in my youth, so people, friends, and locations don’t mean as much to me because we severed those connections (as I was so little) when we moved, so my home was my “things“. Materialistic much? Yeah. Gets real easy to fall into the must buy things trap. Surround myself with stuff to feel at home. But my situation is different now, as we’ve lived in the same house for 15 years. I’ve never stayed in one spot, let alone one house for that long. I feel like, for the first time, I’m putting roots down. It’s a strange realization. So I have to change. Have to heal. Let some of that shit go. Accept the parts that made me, well – me. But let go of some of that hurt. Don’t play the What if? game. Let it pass through you and be better afterward. That sounds glib. I’m no psychologist. I’d wager there is far more going on in the background than I can articulate. But understanding where your foibles stem from, looking at those circumstances with a critical eye, making adjustments to things that are harming you because of it, and trying to do better, is worth it. For me. Perhaps not for you.

Closets, drawers, dressers, book shelves, and my old wardrobe.  Stuff I haven’t touched in ten years. A good portion of it can go. Serve someone else as you have served me. Let someone less fortunate go work their first office job with my old dress shirts/pants. Let some teen read those fat ass books because I sure as hell wasn’t going to read them. Whether it was a style of writing I couldn’t get into, the subject matter, or any number of other reasons. No good holding on to that stuff just to look like I have a library at home. I’m not holding on to 1,000 books I don’t plan on reading, enjoying, or being challenged by, just to qualify my horde as a library. Ridiculous. Better served to go to the community at large. I’ll read twitter on my phone, and the occasional article, but I read best with a physical book in my hands. That hasn’t changed, and I don’t think it will. But also, if I choose incorrectly and buy a book I don’t like, I don’t feel as though I HAVE to keep that book for the rest of my life. Subtle difference. I wish I could read faster/on demand so that I could utilize a library. But my mood towards a book, even one I’m loving is so volatile I can’t stick to reading one in 10-14 days, as a general rule.

This has been a weird one. To summarize. Deep cleaning is good. Letting go of some things you’ve held on to for unhealthy reasons is good. Understanding where your tendencies stem from is good. Using that to change your life/habits little by little for the better is good. You will over do it early in the process, and hurt yourself. Be as truthful as you can be to yourself, and start small. Also I read so inconsistently I can’t seem to utilize a library very well, and continue to buy books most years, though not in the volume I once did. I am also ok with putting a book down part way in if it doesn’t do anything for me. I can give those books to others. It’s ok to not like/love every single book I pick up. Statistically speaking that was an unlikely expectation in the first place.

Happy Christmas Eve, to all whom celebrate. We have more rain, fog and potential for freezing rain. Not much going on around here this Sunday December 24th, 2023.

Holding on to useful, old things.

I’ve had the exact same beach towel since I was a little kid. I was given it on a trip to florida one year (though this part is kind of foggy), and I have held on to it for three plus decades or more. It went to junior high as a gym towel, and then high school and my OAC year in the same capacity. It still retains the rusted hook stain on one broad side from hanging in my lockers. The edges are fraying, and the colours aren’t quite what they used to be, but once it is no longer a viable beach towel, it can become a shop rag, and finish out it’s days wiping down oily hands, or buffing off finish from a piece of furniture. Not certain of why I’m so attached to it, other than it has been a part of my life for thirty odd years (roughly). After all the moves, and changes to direction of my life it has been there to add one small sense of continuity and stability. I’ll be sad to see it go when it finally gives up the Ghost. At this point the fabric weave owes me nothing. Thanks for hanging around Sail Boat Beach Towel (SBBT).

The Sail Boat Beach Towel (SBBT).

Last year my wife purchased the family all new giant beach towels, and somehow they have less absorbency power than a single damp napkin. Not sure how they managed to manufacture fabric that won’t soak up water, and yet still fails to help wipe it off your body. The mechanics of such a tool are beyond me. The colours are vivid, the fabric is soft, and yhe overall size of the towel is huge, so you’d think it would be a slam dunk. But you would be wrong. Damn wrong. So very, very wrong.

Today would be another installment of Domestic Duties Monday, but due to the strike both kids are home, and since teachers haven’t gone synchronous on-line yet, my wife is home too. Will we go stir crazy, or will the afflicted parties negotiate sooner rather than later.