Mnemosyne's Rules for Making Room

Some people think spring is the best time for cleaning, but I say, why not winter? You're going to be inside anyway, and inclement days provide an ideal opportunity to tackle jobs like clearing out clutter that you wouldn't dream of doing on a nice day (or at least, I wouldn't).

I've written before about the complications that arise from having too many objects sitting around. Lately, I've actually been getting rid of some of them, and while it may not free up that much space, it just feels better to have them gone. The television, for example, I never watched--and to my surprise, you apparently can't even give a TV away, so I just had to throw it out. My old typewriter, which was taking up real estate on a crowded table in the back room, now has the niche the TV formerly occupied. There was also the space heater I never used, and even though I had it tucked away, that's one less thing I'll have to move when dust-mopping.

Last winter, I had gotten my files mostly in order, but there's still some clutter, so I've started going through that, too. Old bills, cards, pictures . . . anything I'm pretty sure I won't be looking at again is a candidate for the dust bin. Several times in the past, I've started to throw out old boxes of letters and cards and found that for sentimental reasons, I hesitated to do so. My feelings about that are a little different now, as I realize that I truly never look at those things, that they are gathering dust, and that dust is itself a hazard.

Last night, for example, I found an old Christmas card in which someone berated me for not including any news in my card and then went on to tell me that they had been in Lexington not long before. The same thought came to mind that had occurred to me the first time I read the card, which was, "Wow, if you really want to know how I'm doing, why didn't you call when you were in town?" The nerve, huh? This time, however, I didn't suppress the thought, and that card went the way of the shredder.

I know there will be more things thrown away by the time I'm done. I've already parted company with videos I have no desire to look at again; I've gone through my books before, but who knows, there may be more that I feel I can part with now. I certainly have plenty of them. Then there are all those "collectibles" sitting around that make dusting such a pain in the neck. Some of them I've had for years, but it may be time now to let them go. It'd be much easier to clean without them.

It isn't that I don't value gifts that people have given me but rather that I want the things I look at every day to speak to me of living affection--in many cases, these objects are like exhibits from a museum of my past, curios collected on an archaeological dig, from people I no longer see. And who wants to live in a museum? It's the relationship with the giver that gives an object meaning--without that, it's just something taking up space. This process will take a little doing, but the beginning of the year seems like a propitious time to start.

On a final note, I've been clearing out old emails and online accounts as well--and while I'm on the topic of electronic communications, this is probably a good time to tell you that Google says people following my blog with a non-Google account will no longer be able to do so in the near future. If you want to follow Wordplay, they advise that you sign up for a Google account and re-follow the blog. I'm not sure how many Openid followers I have, but if you're one of them, this applies to you. I sometimes look at the metrics on my blog and am amazed at the number of readers I have around the world. So many from Russia, for instance--what gives with all those Russian readers, second only to Americans in following my blog? I asked that once before, and someone said that perhaps I have a Russian admirer. I don't think that's it, but it remains one of the curiosities of my blogging life.

You may, like me, be busy clearing out clutter and getting organized for the new year. If so, good luck and smooth sailing. And if you enjoy Wordplay's forays into myth, culture, and everyday life, I'll see you in cyberspace.