Pulling thistles in the emotional weed bed

I spent a good portion of today and yesterday cleaning out and organizing our stash of project files and “job jackets,” and I think I’ve hit on a key reason I’m so averse to throwing out personal papers and old records of past work. It must have something to do with a resistance to stirring up dormant feelings. To toss is to toss, but to conscientiously purge files while retaining only that which is valuable means reliving the emotional experiences, to some degree, both pleasant and unpleasant. For me, accepting this sheds light on another aspect of throwing things away—overcoming the apprehension of making a mistake or misjudgment, and inviting future emotions of loss or regret.

Some of this is downright crazy—rekindled emotions tied up with worries about emotions yet to come—and I can see why others just turn off the scrutiny and pitch away. There has to be a balance between the two forms of mild madness. One must not dread feelings from the past nor carry a fear of feelings yet to come, for both impinge on the equilibrium of the present. The past doesn’t exist, and the future is forever unreal. All we ever possess is the present. The continuous now is our only laboratory for the mastering of time and space.

Time… I’m spending it with my rubbish!

Space… I need more of it! Now!

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