Finding Freedom From Fixtures

After recently taking a workshop with Marylee Fairbanks (http://maryleefairbanks.com/) I have decided to begin my own "24 Things" challenge (http://maryleefairbanks.com/24-things/). The rules are simple: each day for 24 days you let go of something that has been cluttering up your house, something that no longer serves you, objects that will be better suited at a yard sale, donation box, or in a trash barrel. During the 24 day release, one should only purchase necessities-- food, medical care, etc. All other material desires should be added to an ongoing list. If you are able to remember the items on your list at the end of the 24 days, then you are free to purchase them, otherwise they are likely to have been unimportant. According to Marylee, "The clutter in our house reflects the clutter in our hearts." Are we clinging to mementos of past relationships? Unwanted gifts that we were too polite to turn away? Clothes that haven't fit for years? Objects that no longer reflect who we are currently in this ever-changing body and mind of ours? Are the things we surround ourselves with keeping us rooted in the past, preventing us from blossoming into the future? In order to invite abundance into our lives, we must eliminate the unnecessary clutter that surrounds us.

Although Marylee recommends four cycles, corresponding to the four seasons, of 24 Things each year, the timing of her most recent workshop and the significance of this period in my own life could not have been better. I will be beginning my solitary 24 Things today, April 29th exactly one year after my (ex) husband told me he was moving out. In exactly 24 days I will turn 28 years old. I cannot think of a better way to mark the end of a year of transformation and to usher in another year of abundance, love, and gratitude for this life that constantly challenges and inspires me.

"One good thing to remember when clearing out is this: If you have an object that makes the past feel more important than the future then you should let it go. The past is gone. Your present is all that need be nourished." ~Marylee Fairbanks

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Day 46: Pajamas

When I was in high school, my two best friends and I went to the mall every weekend. I didn't often buy much since, even then, I was careful about making purchases and was extremely indecisive. I'd browse the stores and wait until the following weekend before buying something I had my eye on. Usually, I just bought a new screen-print t-shirt from Hot Topic. My freshman year of high school when we prowled the mall my collection of shirts grew to include Rainbow Brite, the Smurfs, Punky Brewster, Blues Clues, the Care Bears, Strawberry Shortcake, Daria, and Lite Brite. I wore them, regardless of the weather, over long-sleeved shirts. These and jeans became my high school uniform for the four years I dragged myself through the cinder-block lined hallways.

The year after high school I started slowly phasing my t-shirts out. They were old, faded, holey, flimsy and slowly retired from wear, however, they remained in my dresser drawer. Before I moved I cleaned and consolidated everything in my room. I cut out the pictures on the shirts with hopes of someday learning to quilt so that I could patch them together. I learned last summer, but have yet to fashion the fabric into anything fancy.

The year that my husband was in Iraq, I spent one night most weekends drinking with his best friend. He'd pick me up in his car and always had the Doors blasting from his ipod.  I felt instantly happier hearing the first notes of the band whose lead singer's grave I visited when I went to Paris. His friend and I would buy a bottle of Jagermeister and feed it into the tap machine he kept in his bedroom. We'd dispense the cold, dark liquid into shot glasses until the early morning hours when I'd walk home and stumble into bed only to wake up a few hours later, sometimes still drunk, to go to work.

My husband and I would fly home for Christmas while we lived in Georgia. The first year back my mother bought the red penguin pajamas pictured to the left. The pajama top bears the phrase "Light My Fire." I instantly thought of the Doors song when I saw it and would wear the set out of sheer amusement. I was in my twenties and married, wearing pajamas meant for a teenager.

The Smurf pajama pants and Eeyore fleece were gifts this past Christmas. To say that I was disappointed when I opened the white sweater box would be an understatement. The pants are made for children and fit funny in the pelvis because my butt is bigger than it was when I was nine. The fleece is something I might have worn in fourth grade, but wouldn't think of wearing now. After my separation I think my parents assumed that I would revert back to my children's TV show shirt wearing, depressed teenage self-- to the time before I met my husband. Despite my parents' 1950s view that a woman needs a husband and that staying in a failed marriage is preferable to divorce, I have grown monumentally as a person since my husband walked out. Today I am more independent, mature, risk-taking, go-getting, and outgoing than I have ever been in my entire life. I am trying to rise above my past, having gained new insight from the experiences that made me who I am today and have allowed me to break free from this chrysalis into the flight of the future.
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