Venturing In

It's amazing how much stuff is out there in the world. Some people's homes feel like resale shops. They're not happy about it. They had to hire a total stranger to come to their home and help them extricate the excess. I figure we're fueled by the idea that things will make us happy, so go and get more things. But this way of living ends up breeding turmoil, and underneath this chaos is a feeling that you can never have enough.

Still it can be hard to be suspicious of our things. "I don't want to consider this." I think there's a part of us holding out hope that this thing will bring me joy, solve my problems, take care of me. Many of my clients have old computers that they are no longer using sitting off to the side of the room, or under the a desk, or sometimes still on their desk, next to their new computers. It reminds me of an old junk car parked on the grass in someone's front yard. From some deeper place, there's a part of us that doesn't want to let go of the hopes and possibilities we have for our things.

The aversion to let go doesn't come from our things. They couldn't care less if we decided to let them go. The resistance is an innate belief that it's wrong to let things go. The amazing thing to me is when the actual value of things is called into question by my clients, the resistance falls like a house of cards. Last week's client was trembling with just a sliver of courage as she faced the warehouse in her closet. Here's a montage of what she said as ventured in. "I don't want to do this...do we have to?...but what if I need these?...well, actually, no one's using that...I guess I can let this go...I don't use this...oh, here's a whole bag of junk I can throw out!"