clean up your act!

as some of you may or may not know, i am packing for a much-desired move. we are moving back to new haven a mere five mile distance away. not that the close distance or enthusiasm on my part makes my stuff jump into boxes by itself or anything...
in my pre-packing and organizing stage, i have noticed some serious life-patterns emerging, and a direct link between the way i move about my space, and the way i move about my life. let me explain.
i have amassed much much stuff. stuff i need and use, as well as stuff i thought i needed or would eventually use. {see: too good to pass up.} you do this too, right? probably not to the same degree. now, i am not going on the oprah show as a hermit slob or anything, but things things things... they can end up owning us in ways unforeseen to the collector.
in the peeling back and removal process of extra material goods, i have cleared a space in my head, and body i did not know was there.
parallel example:
when i was in jr. high, all the rage was large fluffy curly hair. i always loves large poofy curls. still do. i wanted a perm. i seriously needed to poof in the coiffure arena. i got out the curling iron. i got out my mom's hot rollers, and after all was aquaneted to death, i was not even satisfied. until one day, i decided to not brush my hair after i bathed. within a few hours, i realized that i had the exact poofy curly hair i always wanted! up till then, i had no idea my hair was curly. i'm not kidding here folks. my mother made me brush and comb the curl out daily- under the guise of getting gnarls out.
liar! i stopped brushing my hair from then on. i run a pic through it weekly- only because i don't want dreadlocks right now. but underneath it all, i always had what i desired { myself.} fast forward to my "adult" life. mother is no longer telling me to brush my hair. i am the boss of my domain. sort of.
the clutter runs free like wild horses around here. [occasionally i leave carrot sticks out for them.] i cannot seem to get a grip on my crap. it's everywhere. books, paperwork, art projects, tidbits of tchotchkes and the like. how did this happen?
back to kid-dom- i had very little belongings as a youth. A] we had no money for it, and B] my personal space was not personal or mine. so when i moved out {and even as i planned for that move as a high-school teen,} i started collecting stuff. be it practical belongings or anything i liked... eventually it would be displayed or used in my very own home.
when i moved into my first place [still a teen,] i had a great set of stuff. i painted and decorated, and adopted a kitty. all was great in my world. or so i thought.
but soon- like slipping into quicksand, it all began to become an overwhelming enterprise of stuff i was sinking into. much of my depression was in direct relation to the messy state of my large apartment. i adopted cool vintage furniture which i would or would not ever get to re-finishing. like large armchairs. and end tables. my bills piled up unopened. i was struggling, still just a kid, with three jobs, and overwhelmed with an outlook that reflected my struggles. i thought it had to do with being an artist. p.s. here- the movies and books lie. the daily common life of a struggling artist is not romantic, or thrilling. it pretty much sucks to be broke- regardless of talent. anyhoo- i'd do major clean-ups at my place, but all that damned crap was still there- even if it was in a tidy pile.
i lived there for almost 11 years. after 7 of which my girlfriend moved in, and i had to make space for another human. in my precious cluttered palace- how?!?!!?!! we managed it.
alas, we moved here- to this dump- out of a serious necessity - 4 years or so ago. i got rid of the bare minimum when we moved out/in. the move was traumatic enough. i had to hold onto the things. deeply psychological analysis could be discussed here- but you get the picture...
so here i sit, typing this out- on a supposed food blog- and perhaps you may be wondering if i will ever get to the food portion of the show- it's coming, patience grasshoppers!
sarah asked what i wanted for my birthday- i replied "to move."
so we're moving in less than two weeks.
the house is a mess. a good mess.
a we're re-organizing it top to bottom mess. i have been giving my belongings away. big-time material goods. i'm gonna list it for myself- read along if you wish:
~ 4 cafe chairs
~ 4 antique kitchen chairs
~ snow tires
~ half of my darkroom {* very big deal}
~ half+ of my cooking and baking wares
~ most of my vases and glass display crap
~ clothes that don't make me feel or look great
~ more books
~ random things
the list is small. now. it will grow. that list was mostly kitchen related. i cannot wait to donate more. i absolutely love freecycle. people are very appreciative to take and give a new home and life to my old stuff. i think that so much of my holding on has not only to do with my want as a kid for things, but the desire, as an adult, to give something unwanted a good worthy home.
aww- what an odd chair, i'll take it home and love it. someone else's castaways had always had a place with me. had. i identified with them, being a bit of a castaway myself. so in claiming these things- these objects, i was claiming my own identity as well. to take a scruffy & wobbly chair and turn it into a masterpiece- that's the idea i was driven by. trash to treasures extreme. my own feelings of belonging, or feeling wanted, became a symptom i acted out through objects. and subsequently, the mere thought of getting rid of things became an upheaval, both emotionally and psychologically. tossing stuff was literally congruent to removing a layer of myself... sheeeeshshshss, not that bare-boned dissertation again!
so this time around, i was very scared to plan the move, and my fears had me frozen for a few days. then i decided to give away one of my most prized possessions. my darkroom.
what the? talk about upheaval. i decided that in the new place, i cannot set one up- it's not up to code for wet chemically areas and i decided to find another place to print my work. holy crap. photography feeds my soul, and i wanted to conduct a spiritual experiment... now?! yes.
so i went into my workroom, and got out all my photo-related and darkroom items. i separated it into three piles: get rid of- keep- and questionable. i donated the get rid of and questionable piles. i am three large boxes and two huge trash bags lighter- and that's just the photo stuff. i figured- hey- if i need it later, it will come back to me, or something even better will. this is a new concept for me to grasp.
some of you live in a minimalist space. not i. yet i totally admire it. i do. i am constantly inspired by my polar opposite- japanese decor, art, and design. talk about quiet dignity in a space. simplicity and beauty mingle to create a place to reflect. someday. right now i am baby-stepping into my own sacred space- apartment part three.
now for the food parallel. so i have shed my proverbial outermost skin, the material, even if just a small area of it, and have discovered that underneath it all, my organizational skills are better than i thought. i'm not a slob, i have too much stuff. i can do with-out certain things- it is not like doing without.
the joy of lightening my load has made my eating decisions easier.
i kid you not.
the days i donate my belongings, i eat better than the days i fret over moving. i have been saying to my friends who ask about my raw-fu challenge and raw in general, that my excess weight will melt away when the outdated and unnecessary ideas and emotions and memories triggered by them within me are ready to shed themselves. i have yo-yo'd on this raw diet. i have had some mega-stressers that affected my eating choices. but i am ready to move on.
i feel a shift.
i am excited about this next chapter of my life.
i want to give like way more stuff away.
and re-gain myself.
my center.


oh- that's where you've been hiding all this time...