Clean it up, throw it out
Whenever I pass one of those cinderblock mini-storage places with double-loaded rows of strictly functional corridors, I think the same thing: “That looks like some nursing homes I've been in.”
Actually, that's not what happens. Instead, I strike my forehead with my palm and have a recurring, self-flagellating thought: “Why didn't I think of that?” In a culture where we consume all we can and hang onto things long past their usefulness, the concept is gold.
Specifically, my gold, since I've rented three large spaces for longer than I should admit. I don't have anything of particular value to hang onto, and can't even remember most of what's in them. My monthly payment simply buys the dubious privilege of not letting go of anything, and my stuff sits in a heap of nondescript clutter — out of sight, but definitely not out of mind.
Recently, though, in a rare fit of focus, I decided to do some reorganization. But instead of a happy reunion with treasured artifacts, I found a museum to unfinished projects and unwelcome memories. So with an impulsive surge of power and relief, I simply threw it all out — a liberating act that should also be applied to that useless junk we store between our ears.
Forget about New Year's, and those winter promises made when the soil of our lives was still frozen and unworkable. Spring is the real opportunity for growth and new beginnings — and the perfect chance to cut the lock, fling open the storage door of our minds and purge any negativity or ill will that's been weighing us down.
Clean it up. Throw it out. Let it go. Let it be. Forgive, just because we can, and vow to start every day with a smile and an open heart. An exponential surge of positive energy will replace all that useless negativity we've been hoarding. Our residents will feel it, and our outcomes will show it. And if everyone does it, we might even get an extra star.