|What is it about "our stuff" that makes us hold on to things, even if they no longer fit in our lives?|
My angel with a broken, glued wing has been around as long as I can remember, and I distinctly remember unpacking my stone mushroom in a new home in Tennessee, when I was twelve or thirteen. I've moved MANY times since then, and with each move, I became more and more discriminating about sentimental attachments.
But there are still a few hold outs. Neither this angel nor this mushroom ever gets displayed in our home anymore. Other mementos with far more value--whether sentimental or monetary--have displaced these two trinkets. They're usually "out of sight, out of mind," so why am I finding it so hard to finally let go?
Yesterday was cheat day, and I had a fine time eating pasta and cake. Soo easy eating what I want when I want it. Wish decluttering were as easy as cheating!