Thursday, 29 January 2015

Rainbow Alert!

"Amber alert!"
Outside large flakes of snow danced hypnotically under the orange glow of the street lamp.
Inside, the whiteness was paper,
sifted into that which was to be burnt,
filed or recycled.
The process was not silent.
I lobbed a few unwanted items in the direction of the bin,
and missed.

"Black alert!"
The more we tidy, the more clutter we appear to gain.
It always surprises me how much it is possible to lose in a cupboard or on the shelf of a bookcase...
Odd gems come to light, an Order of Service from a family wedding nearly thirteen years ago!
"Who is Terence?" asks Abi. Then she understands "Ah!  Terry!"
They look so young.
Trite, but true.
I count the books on a shelf - 30.
I count the shelves, and calculate that that we have about 450 books.
Most of them are mine.
Abi also has books...
The 60+ that left for the charity shop today were just a drop in the ocean,
or to put it more precisely, clutter on the staircase.
Rarely read and mainly outdated.
We surround ourselves we things that we do not need.
When we have been away in our small caravan, I feel quite liberated,
and fantasise about minimalistic living, unencumbered by possessions.
Then I remember that my small caravan always has far too much stuff in it...
What effect do my possessions have on me?
At times it is as if possession is a pin, that keeps me in place.
I am unsure if this is a bad or good thing.
I long to be liberated, but as I sift through, items demand my interest.
"Remember me!" they declare, dragging me back 5, 10, 15 or more years.
An old name badge from work...
An odd sock - what???
Christmas templates
A small plain candle...
A strange money box - who or why?  The bung is perishing...
My first ever Bank Statement from the the departed Yorkshire Bank...I wasn't rich then either!

Blue alert!
The realisation of how much stuff I have to sort through is overwhelming.
I could just shut myself away in the now half empty cupboard under the stairs,
climb in the hammock and ignore the world,
but that would not solve anything.
Meanwhile, if I managed to climb in to the hammock without doing myself a mischief,
I would probably do my self some serious damage when I wanted to extricate myself from my string cocoon!
Anyone want a hammock....

Red alert!  
Why didn't I begin this process years ago!
Why do I trap myself within all this clutter?
Why do I find it so hard to let go, and move on...

Brown alert!
I realise I have been eating chocolate.