Purging

I have spent much of my life on a spiritual quest...one which I have taken through various means and over what seem to be the most decrepit paths imaginable.

During my "travels," I have had some ideas that I jumped on with the zeal if a starving pup at the sight of food and like the starving pup, I gorged myself on said ideas to the point of sickness, thus cowering from my ideas and deciding they didn't fit afterall.

Maybe they did fit, I just chose the wrong way to approach them.

Example, I have had an on and off relationship with yoga since 2000. I started with a book that was published in the 60s or so and practiced daily, until I didn't anymore. Then, missing the connection, I'd start back again. This has gone on for nearly 13 years.

I have also had an on and off again relationship with meditation, although this relationship has gone on much longer. I started meditating about the same time I started taking karate...in the year 1991. I used to even meditate barefoot in the snow, just to see if I could block it out. I could. I enjoyed meditation and I enjoyed it right up until I simply stopped doing it. Then, I'd miss the connection and start it again, although I have never found the ability to truly block things out again.

Maybe I owe that to motherhood, or college, or work, or marriage, or my own lack of discipline.

Anyway, during my travels into what I suppose is myself, I have come up with some hairbrained ideas.

This blog post is about an idea that may very well be "hairbrained" and unnecessary. Instead of jumping head-long into it, I have rolled it about in my mind for a couple of days, partly hoping it dissipates and partly to really consider its importance in my life.

I now find myself sitting on my messy bed (sheets are to be washed...I leaked milk all over them last night), Little Miss is napping in her crib, and I'm preparing to undertake the hairbrained idea of purging my closet of all but necessities.

I am a shoe fanatic and I have numerous pairs, many of which are seldom worn. I have a lot of clothes I seldom wear...it is all going. I've been thinking about how to define "necessity." Do I simply keep a few things that are appropriate for each season? Do I keep things that make me feel good and comfortable? Do I keep only a meager amount, so I can learn to sit comfortably in the same things over and over?

While the last thing would likely be the best lesson, I know I'm not ready and it would send me in a tailspin that resulted in a mess of a shopping spree.

So, I'm going to merge the first two ideas, but also keep some things for a possible job in the future.

I will keep things that are appropriate for each season, that make me feel good and are comfortable.

Everything else goes.

It's crazy to realize that my stomach just knotted as I typed those words. What is it about clothing? Why do I feel such an attachment to it? I think it enables me to hide my insecurities behind the art of another. I can feel like total shit, but wear a lovely scarf and then, instead of being bombarded with questions, I get, "I like that scarf!"

It's convenient, socially acceptable camoflage.

Well, I'm not hiding anymore. I'm going to have to learn to sit comfortably in this skin and there is no time like the present to begin this lesson.

*deep, nervous breath*

My ultimate goal is that my clothes fit just in the door opening (pictured), rather than past the Social Distortion picture.

Then...the dresser gets the same treatment.