More than once lately, I've thought about childhood things. Sentimental clutter can bottleneck a home so quickly. Cards, gifts, old toys, books, decorations, clothes....it just can't all stay with us.
If you had to tell the story of your life, what pieces would speak the most clearly about you?
This rocker spoke nothing about me.
I pulled that rocker from my parents' house a long time ago. I brought it to my basement when I had kids.
I'll paint it and put it in my kids' room! Won't it be neat that they will have my rocker?
No.
It won't, actually.
Just because I owned it or used it doesn't mean I loved it. I don't even remember sitting on it. It was not a beloved toy or piece of clothing. I didn't have grand imaginary adventures while sitting on it or even near it.
So, there it sat in my basement, never getting used, partially because it didn't coordinate with the room my boys are in currently (and I really pictured it more for a girl, who didn't join us until this year) and partially because I didn't think there was enough room for it anyway. I am not a fan of furniture without function in a room. I don't want to just fill space to fill space. This rocker would've just sat there. I can't imagine it would be appealing to my kids beyond its size. I see them curl up with books on the couch or armchair. Not a spindly wood rocker.
This doesn't mean I don't appreciate that my parents bought something like this rocker for me. I certainly do. They've bought and provided me with a great many things out of love. But that's not really what this post is about.
This is about detachment from things. Really evaluating what we need or desire to have around us in our homes.
This is about what I really want to share about myself with my kids.
It wasn't this rocker.
I let it go.
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