The one voice that I have to extract from my mental coding is my mother's voice (and actions and insistence) that constantly reminds me: I might need it some day.
That's the voice of a pack rat, of a hoarder, of one who is so afraid of scarcity that instead they have too much. Unfortunately, it's too much of nothing!!!! Of nothing that means anything. It's all junk.
I had a room that I called my Dorian Gray room. It was the room into which I stuffed all those things that someday I might use. I just shut the door and forgot about it. But it sat there and in darkness reflected my scarcity mentality. Yes, it was all shut up away, but it determined my daily life.
Then my son moved in and I had to move all that stuff. Guess where it ended up? Most of it is in my bedroom...the one room I wanted so much to be sacrosanct against the scarcity mentality that lives deep within my cells.
I have complained about being forced to take off the time between Christmas and New Years. It terrifies me. Yes. Terrifies me. Because I know the part deep inside me that wants to rid myself of this scarcity thinking will hound me to get rid of things...things that I think I will some day need! Aieeee!
There's more to being forced to take this time off, but I knew this whole scarcity thing would raise its head.
So now I'm up in my room with a broom sweeping EVERYTHING that isn't a bed and dresser into the middle of the floor.
And here's what I'm going to do. My promise.
If I don't love it I will get rid of it.
How's that? My house is too small to store anything that I don't love. My life is too precious to be occupied with things that I don't love. This is incredibly frightening because eventually it will extend to the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen, and (gulp) to the world outside.
There's no room for that which you do not love.
