There is a closet in my home that holds nine years of good intentions. Jars of brushes. Stacks of paper still waiting for their first mark. Paints, fabrics, beads, and bins of treasures I carried home from a classroom I loved. Each one whispers a small, familiar story: you were going to use me.
When I left full-time teaching, I held on to these materials the way we hold on to chapters we aren't ready to close. Over time, that treasure trove quietly became something heavier. A sense of guilt. A little disappointment that I hadn't maximized every resource. And underneath it all, overwhelm.
Here is what I'm learning. Clutter is rarely about the objects themselves. It is about the feelings we've attached to them: the hopes, the "someday," the version of ourselves we thought we'd become. In Declutter Your Life, Tasha Nyon invites us to look past the stuff and gently explore those emotional attachments, so we can release what no longer serves us and make room for peace.
So I am choosing to see this differently. My unused supplies are not a failure. They are a gift that simply hasn't reached its person yet. Somewhere there is a young artist, a teacher on a shoestring budget, or a woman rediscovering her creativity who is thirsty for exactly what is sitting in my closet. Letting go becomes an act of sharing my light.
Three questions to ask yourself when purging
- Does this object serve the woman I am today, or the woman I thought I'd be? Honor the dream, then release the object if it belongs to a past chapter.
- Who could this bring joy to right now? Picture the hands that would receive it. Suddenly, letting go feels less like loss and more like generosity.
- What feeling am I holding on to, and can I keep the feeling without keeping the thing? The love, the memory, the creative spark all live in you. They don't need a shelf.
Making room for something greater
As the bins empty and the shelves breathe again, I feel something shifting. This isn't only about clearing space in my home. It's about clearing space in my heart. When we release what is heavy, we create an opening, and life has a beautiful way of filling that opening with something even greater. For me, that means room for new creative visions, deeper connections, and the kind of work that lights me up. I don't know exactly what will arrive yet, and I'm learning to love that part. There is an elegance in trusting the empty space.
And I want this for you, too. What might be waiting on the other side of your letting go? A new passion? A calmer morning? A studio corner that finally feels like yours? A season of rest you've been craving? You deserve to find out.
Your invitation
Begin with one drawer. One bin. One small, brave act of release. Notice how your breath changes when the space opens up, and then gently set an intention for what you're welcoming in.
Come sit with this for a moment, and ask yourself: what am I ready to share with the world, and what greater thing am I making room for?
With love and light,
Lori Your Publisher
Artist | Therapeutic Art & Life Coach | Lightworker
Fine Art | Coaching & Workshops
