There is something invigorating about creating space. The calendar’s flip to a new year creates all sorts of space or the illusion of it. Pulling down the Christmas decorations creates new space in our homes.
This new space fills our soul with a sense of optimism. Or maybe a need to refill the space with something new.
I find I am more creative when the slate is clean. My desk is cleared off—the areas within my eye-sight with nothing out of order.
Maybe this is why I hadn’t been creating recently. My outer and inner spaces were filled with stuff.
The closets were overflowing with things left behind by my adult children. Blankets they used when they were children. Puzzles with no clear idea if all of the pieces were even in there. Old trophies from sports played a decade ago—clothes which may or may not fit them.
They didn’t necessarily want the things, but they also did not want us to get rid of them. And maybe I didn’t want to either. Kind of hard to let go of a time when we all lived under the same roof. Ate dinner together, and when we ran around every evening getting four kids to the proper gym for their games.
Yet, all of this was taking up space. Physically and spiritually.
There is nothing wrong with letting go of past things when they no longer serve a purpose. I may not remember they won an award for their baseball team in 2010, but I remember being proud of them. And the fun we had watching them grow and become better athletes and people.
My son threw out a bunch of his trophies when he was home. He sorted through his things and decided what was important to him and what he didn’t care about anymore. He threw out a few bags of things and returned a few things to a bin he said he would retrieve the next time he was home.
I am feeling the same feelings. When my mom and Dad sold their home a few years ago, they gave me a few bins to go through. Old trophies from when I swam competitively. I wasn’t ready to go through them and decide what I still wanted to keep.
The truth is, I will always remember swimming competitively. The long days spent in swimming pools across the state. The two hour nightly practices. The people I swam with. The fact that I almost always, in ten years of swim meets, had a parent in the stands cheering me on. And honestly, the trophies mean way less to me than knowing I always had their support.
Creating my own space –
It is time for me to do the same thing. I am ready to through out the old trophies like my son did. They don’t really mean anything to me. What was really important to me from this time was the love and support my parents always gave me. The memory of their faces in the stands is the real trophy, and the space it fills in my heart is the only thing I need.