Shoebox Reality
In order to be tidy and somewhat well-organized, I began to place receipts of all kinds in a shoebox. Soon, the box was full, and I needed another one. Not long afterwards, I started putting other memorable items in there, such as photo negatives, a bracelet gift I had never given, an old wallet in which I had scrawled numbers of people I no longer know, the odd stone from here or there (I have the odd habit of pickinbg up a stone or two in my travels and keeping it as a token of memory), and people's business cards.
These boxes piled up higher and higher, until one day my wife said she had had enough of the clutter. I had to go through these overstuffed time-capsules and figure out what could or should be thrown away.
I sat down on the floor next to the kitchen trash can and set to work cleaning out the deadwood of my past. A Coke receipt from a bike trip I had taken from Lynn to Boston in 1982. An old and crinkled ticket stub to "Cadillac Man" in 1990. A rock from deep within a Fijian cave in 1997. An "Unbreakable" comb from god only knows where/when. (. . .EW!)
I had really amassed quite an odd collection! Much of it was useless, but what amazed me, even about the useless stuff, was the memories it brought back. Diving into the detritus of my history was like finding an old friend, lost since highschool - but unchanged.
As time has passed, I have had to throw alot of things away. I could not carry it all - not in my closet, nor in my head. It had to go. Living free of this collection of past things tried, done, won and lost, I think, has been beneficial for the most part, but at the same time a bit sad. Not for its physical loss, but for the fact that, once "deleted", it fades out of the memory as well.
I suppose the reality that was . . .and that was in my shoebox, is analogous to the reality that is, and is all around us, all the time. I have had to learn to enjoy things, but to let them go when the time comes. I am still not very good at this, but I am working on it, as with everything else.
I still have two boxes to go.
These boxes piled up higher and higher, until one day my wife said she had had enough of the clutter. I had to go through these overstuffed time-capsules and figure out what could or should be thrown away.
I sat down on the floor next to the kitchen trash can and set to work cleaning out the deadwood of my past. A Coke receipt from a bike trip I had taken from Lynn to Boston in 1982. An old and crinkled ticket stub to "Cadillac Man" in 1990. A rock from deep within a Fijian cave in 1997. An "Unbreakable" comb from god only knows where/when. (. . .EW!)
I had really amassed quite an odd collection! Much of it was useless, but what amazed me, even about the useless stuff, was the memories it brought back. Diving into the detritus of my history was like finding an old friend, lost since highschool - but unchanged.
As time has passed, I have had to throw alot of things away. I could not carry it all - not in my closet, nor in my head. It had to go. Living free of this collection of past things tried, done, won and lost, I think, has been beneficial for the most part, but at the same time a bit sad. Not for its physical loss, but for the fact that, once "deleted", it fades out of the memory as well.
I suppose the reality that was . . .and that was in my shoebox, is analogous to the reality that is, and is all around us, all the time. I have had to learn to enjoy things, but to let them go when the time comes. I am still not very good at this, but I am working on it, as with everything else.
I still have two boxes to go.
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