Things worth keeping go in this pile, here. Not in that pile by the door. That's all getting loaded into the back of the car. Yes, of course it will all fit. No, you can't look at what's in there ... hey, don't get into that stuff now! No, really, please don't open those bags. Okay, you can keep the dinosaur head with the trigger-stick thing, but that's it. Yes, I see its teeth. Fine, yes, keep it, just please stop snapping it in my face. I know, I know. It's yours. Things worth keeping are things I've considered. But I've also moved swiftly through those thoughts, like the unnecessary quick-before-dinner-no-it-can't-wait-until-tomorrow trip to the thrift store's drop bin just so I won't have time to change my mind. I'm clearing floor space. I'm clearing my head. But mainly I have to make room for all these ice skates and helmets and backpacks and extra booster seats in the back of the car. Things worth keeping don't directly contribute to my suffocation at the end of every year. Maybe it's the velvet darkness of a northern winter that fills my lungs. Maybe it's because I need to wet a rag and wipe glacial dust off my ceiling and walls and holy-crap-would-you-look-at-those-windows? And I need to do the filing. And what's all this junk piled up on the ... why in the world do we still have the book shelf you made 25 years ago in undergrad? Things worth keeping should not be kept out of guilt. That should be a rule. Ask, Will I feel like crap if I get rid of this? Then do it. But some things have grown long heart strings. Like that shelf you built with the borrowed hand tools, sawing away inside that teeny apartment ... I know ... the little place where you asked me to marry you. Things worth keeping are useful. Things worth keeping are beautiful. Things worth keeping are also sometimes frivolous and completely unnecessary, but might come in handy someday. Things worth keeping have a history that is meaningful, but not burdensome. Realize sometimes these qualities shift, the same way priorities do. Sometimes all that deep meaning dissipates and leaves you wondering, Why is this broken stick/chipped vase/rubber lizard still on my windowsill? But burdens also accumulate as silently as years, layered and thick. Sometimes the smallest item is the largest in the room. So you have to ask, I mean really ask: how heavy is this thing? Things worth keeping should bring joy when you see them. Things worth keeping should make you feel like, you. Things worth keeping shouldn't be confused with things that should really be given to someone else. Like the gold hand-painted Italian Christmas ball, so precious it never hung on the tree, never left its segmented plastic case that even the 6-year-old knew to steer clear of while rooting around for the dough ornaments -- why would you teach her such a thing? Do not keep this precious item. Weep, only a little, when you wrap it for a dear friend's birthday and have the fleeting, ridiculous thought: Oh God, what if the person who gave this to me 20 years ago ... DIES?! And then, realize that of course no ornamental ball will ever replace that person. And then give it away. And feel lightness. Things worth keeping are worth asking this, a friend's touchstone question: Am I keeping this for never? Because if you are, you need to find a road and send that thing down it.
24 Comments
Liz D
1/11/2015 08:00:37 am
Oh my goodness, this is painful, but needed. Thank you!
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1/11/2015 09:27:54 pm
Liz, oh no! Not aiming to inflict pain! Thank you for reading anyway and I'm glad your needs were met a little through some writing.
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1/11/2015 09:35:01 am
So lovely. You are so amazing. I am glad I'll be one of those people who will say, "I knew Amy before she was famous." I love this post and these reminders. Oh the "velvet darkness of a northern winter" WOW! Love.
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1/11/2015 09:32:08 pm
Claire, You are so very sweet and I'm so happy that you're one of the 16 people out there who reads my posts.
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Do you remember the film Labyrinth? ( I think David Bowie was in it) ... there was a scene in it where a young girl (lost and trying to find her brother) was being laden down with objects from her home, and I remember a feeling a sense of utter tight chested/ suffocation. Admitting that there is no place in your home for the "guilt ridden object" is utterly liberating. Amy, you write beautifully .. I look forward to your next post. K x
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1/11/2015 09:39:21 pm
Kate, Okay, this is super embarrassing, but here goes: "I'm talking 'bout the Babe. What Babe? The Babe with the power. What power? The power of voodoo. Who do? You do." Why yes, I DO know the movie The Labyrinth and my husband sings that crazy David Bowie song all the time. We are so 1986 around here, but I'd forgotten about that scene with the stuff attached to the main character.
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Kate
1/12/2015 12:08:14 am
*Chortle* ... ear worm firmly embedded .. :) K x
Judith Janes
1/12/2015 06:29:56 am
What a wonderful piece you have created! Would love to see the entire thing, do you have other photographs of it? And that black & white eye fabric! Fabulous!
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6/30/2016 10:36:49 am
Nancy,
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Lysi
6/30/2016 02:59:10 pm
Hi Amy. I'm glad I clicked this link. You speak to me and others I know, in your beautiful writing and artwork. Thank you for sharing. Love, Lysi
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6/30/2016 03:43:40 pm
Hello Lysi -- Long-time Friend--it's so great to hear from you here! Thank you for your kind words about my work. I wish you and your family all the best and hope you are all well.
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6/30/2016 04:12:05 pm
Sighed much--helped so much to have the beautiful photos in between thoughts occurred to me. Thanks.
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6/30/2016 04:23:19 pm
Naomi--It's been a sighing kind of day. Thank you for your kind words and for taking the time to read and comment.
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Kate Arnold
7/1/2016 02:14:01 am
Thank you for this lovely article - I am a hoarder, but I am finding as I age that the reasons for keeping items do change, and in some cases, dissolve and fade away. I am starting to recognise these changes, and I am starting to let go of things I had previously thought would be with me forever. It feels strange to let them go but good at the same time. My Darling Dad has recently died and of the four of us siblings the way I have dealt with it is to bring as much back to my home as I could!! There, I am spending time reading and looking and remembering. Not all looks right in my home though, and I know I will have to let go of certain pieces, as I have them just because they were in Dads house - they don't look or feel right in mine though, they are somehow discordant. Others though, make my heart sing and smile. Like the kitchen chairs on which we sat so many times as a family chatting and arguing and laughing. Despite their knocks and bumps and creaks , I could never part with them. Bit of a diatribe, sorry, but your article really touched me - thankyou
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7/1/2016 12:28:36 pm
Kate,
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Kate Arnold
7/1/2016 10:33:03 pm
X 7/1/2016 04:38:04 am
Amy,
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7/1/2016 12:34:46 pm
Nancy,
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7/3/2016 04:02:47 pm
That one question . . . How heavy is this thing? That does it for me.
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7/5/2016 05:32:03 pm
Wendy,
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Amy MeissnerArtist in Anchorage, Alaska, sometimes blogging about the collision of history, family & art, with the understanding that none exists without the other. Categories
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