Clean Your Closet, Clean Your Mind
The day started out simple enough – I prayed, I lit candles, went to the beach, turned the music volume to window shake level: all things I do when I need to get myself centered, refocused. I had to make a decision that I didn’t want to, even though I know it’s for the best.
My mom has a saying “clean your closet, clean your mind.” The thought process behind this is simple, focus on something else and the answers you are looking for will become clear. It’s a tried-and-true process of working through things, when we move something from the forefront of our brain to the ‘back burner’ we stop confusing our brain, we allow the thought to simmer, the subconscious mind is still processing but we are no longer dwelling.
But what if the closet I’m cleaning is filled with memories? What if I suddenly find myself staring at the relics of relationships past? Our lives were once so enter-twined that every corner of my house contains pieces of him, pieces of us. So, what do I do when I find myself sitting on the floor in a heap of sobbing mess?
Should I shove everything back into the closet and shut the door? Should I save this for another day? Will there ever be a time that this will be easier? When is the time to say goodbye? How much time is the right amount of time?
The next several hours flew by like a movie I’d seen 100 times..
You made this decision, this is what you needed, get a grip on yourself ..oh, I remember the day he brought home these earrings, remembering my favorite stone is aquamarine: I love these earrings, I’ll just put these back for now. Smiling through the tears as I picked up the bag of shells we collected on the beach the morning we watched a dragonfly migration (still one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen). I looked at the shells, held them in my hands, traced their grooves, remembered the laughter and amazement of that day…the perfect day.
How is there still one of his shirts here, and why does it smell like him? I loved the way he smelled: I’ll put this in a bag and bring it to his mom’s. His watch, in the bag it goes, family pictures, in the bag, pictures of us…smiling, the happy times staring at me, maybe this isn’t what I wanted, did I make a mistake? Tears flooded my eyes as memories flooded my heart. I missed him, with every day and every breath.
I took a deep breath, looked around, my past scattered around me: A trash can now filled with thoughts never to be revisited, a bag sealed off so tight that the smell of that forgotten shirt has no way to seep into my new life, pictures of good times, gifts that were given out of guilt and not love, tucked back into the recesses of my closet and my brain. I stood up, breathed in what seemed like the cleanest air I have felt in a long time, I wiped my tear-stained cheeks, took one last look at the past, and silently thanked him for having an important place in my life, for teaching me things that I will always treasure, like how to say goodbye.
It’s not always easy to sit with our hurt, but until we have a much-needed conversation with our past, it will never truly be our past. I’ve been told that you haven’t moved on until you can tell your story without crying.
So, today I sat with my pain, knowing that each tear that fell was a piece of the hurt leaving my heart forever.
My closet looks great, I have room for new things, new memories, a new life free of the heavy, hurt cluttered closet of yesterday, and for that, I am thankful.