… but I don’t have to keep it forever.
2022 looks like it’ll be another Decluttering Year for me. Last year I made great strides, divesting hundreds of books; I won’t get that many out the door this year, simply because I’ve drawn the collection down to the really important stuff.
One rather significant divestment: a bag of costume supplies, and my old dress form. That designer tool traveled with me from Georgia to California and moved with me three times here in L.A. Reality check: if we do ever get back into dancing to the extent that a costume is required, I’ll buy one. No more DIY for me. (I had some fun with dresses, back in the day.)
I actually still have this one, in a version that is not as shown!
There’s other categories of decluttering, too. Such as:
my first blog. I started writing it in 2009, abandoned it in 2018 when this one started, but maintained it - till now. I’ve deleted more than half the content, saved a few bits, and suspect the rest will vanish into the ether once the last maintenance fee runs out.
my domain name. I got it for that first blog (at the time, it was connected with my tentative foray into personal training + dance instruction). Cancelled the renewal on that.
the basic savings account. It’s been rolled into the money-market savings account, the one that actually earns measurable interest.
plant containers. I’ve divested a whole carload of these. In the big old apartment, I had a patio, and container gardening was the way to go. Here in the little old house, I have an actual yard.
entertainment. My subscriptions to a couple of arts channels have been cancelled. I definitely got my money’s worth, but the truth is I barely watch screen these days. And I can always re-up if I start jonesing for ballet.
There is a long list of decluttering projects to pick away at over the course of the year. Some will be invisible; some - if I get there - will be Really Obvious to anyone who comes in the house.
Going through my old stuff, reminding myself of past lives, is another way to add depth to my fictional characters.
Everyone is more than a single person, over the course of their life.