I can see the light (bulb).

If you remove the clutter, you can see the light.

I’m not sure I knew a light was there. It was a dull glow, like a distant star on a cloudy night or a dim nightlight. But we have purged, sold, donated and ripped treasured junk out of our clinging hands. We’re on a mission to declutter, to rid ourselves of the stuff that we own.

We don’t really own the stuff, the stuff owns us

34 boxes to the new storage unit. 5 (more) huge heavy ones to the Salvation Army and more just waiting to go and I can see the light bulb in the cellar. I can see it from standing in the middle of the room. I couldn’t see it before. I knew it was there, but I couldn’t be sure it was there. It lit the room but it was indirect lighting, like the shade behind a mountain. It’s just not quite the same light.

What’s your clutter?

What’s in your way? What’s casting a shadow on your light? You know it’s there, there is always light. But is it bright? Is it warm? Is it yellow and soft or bright and white?

I’m shedding skin like a snake with each box we remove. Even purging history as each shipped away collection of the past makes room for new memories in the future. It’s weighing us down, it’s dimming our light.

What’s in your attic?