as a kid i loved having things around me and never wanted to throw anything out. i used to save every scrap of paper i ever wrote on and ended up hijacking one of my parent's end tables for storage. it was one of those oh-so-70's octagonal shaped column table... with a cupboard door on the lower portion. i would shove all my goodies in that damned thing. my dad used to call it a fire-trap. which, on retrospect - did not help my fear of fire. i have always had dreams of fire and burning up - especially as a wee girl. with the knowledge that the end table was a fire trap i would lay in my twin bed in my tiny room and toss and turn as i imagined the papers just somehow spontaneously sparking up and burning the entire place down.
as i've aged i've gone through periodic purges. i used to save perfume boxes - just because i liked the packaging and thought it'd be a waste to throw them out. i used to keep every book i ever read - even if it was a brutally bad book that i did not want to ever read again - much less inflict on anyone else. i used to keep all the wrapping paper that gifts came in - not that i'd usually remember who the paper was from or what the gift was or even to re-use the nice paper - i just did not want to throw it out.
through time i've gotten better at letting go of these material objects. i will take books to the used store or give them away to the movers who have the carry the damned things in a move. i only keep very very very pretty wrapping paper now - and i do know what and who goes with it. long ago i threw out the last of the perfume boxes.
guess you could say i'm a pack-rat in recovery. that doesn't mean i am in the clear though. i still have a concert t-shirt from 1989. it's a giant oversized bon jovi tour shirt. i don't keep the shirt for any sentimental reasons (though i clearly remember going with my friend leanne and that we stopped at a dairy queen for hot fudge sundaes on the way home). i don't know why i keep the shirt. it's part of the pack-rat thing, i suppose. from time to time i will still use it to sleep in. i guess i am comforted by sleeping with my 18 year-old ghost. i don't see me throwing that shirt out just yet.
and the pack-rat-ness extends to keeping the last item of things. am i attempting to stem the flood of time by keeping one of everything i've ever owned? it really has to be a sickness because i will keep things like the last tea bag from a particularity good box of tea. or the last few scrapings of powder in the bottom of a great international coffee tin. does this mean i hate saying goodbye? does this mean i am comforted by things staying the same? does this mean i just hate finishing things? self-examination is difficult for me... so these questions may remain unanswered until another time. maybe when i'm able to throw out the bon jovi pj's.
what i do know is that i've begun making tea from those last straggling teabags and loose leaves. the past few weeks i've been drinking ancient cups of many brands of earl grey, darjeeling and a whole shop's worth of flavoured teas (cherry, rum&butter, chocolate, orange/peach and the list goes on).
i'm not sure what i'm accomplishing - but i do know that i feel lighter doing this. if only i knew what past baggage i was really holding on to and how to rid myself of it....
[music | tori amos, "siren"]
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