Cleaning is an activity I truly enjoy, but only when the mood strikes me. However, when that moment comes, I go all in, sometimes even overdoing it. Surprisingly, I don’t mind this at all because witnessing the beds neatly made, counters and floors shining, trash cleared, and clothes neatly folded brings me immense relief. The summertime, in particular, enhances my passion for cleaning, despite the heat. The satisfaction of a clean and organized space justifies the effort for me.
While others engage in spring cleaning, I opt for summer cleaning instead. Every year, as the summer arrives, I embark on a thorough exploration of my shelves, cabinets, and drawers, revisiting the items I have kept for another year. Ironically, I rarely ever use or look at these items again, yet a voice inside me insists on holding on to them, “just in case.”
Amidst this sentiment, I’ve accumulated a pile of nostalgic belongings, ranging from toys to old train tickets, coasters to mementos from past relationships. There are countless items I can’t even begin to count. Some hold practical value, while others are merely rubbish. Yet, they linger, carrying sentimental significance from days gone by. However, a while back, when I stumbled upon the concept of minimalism, it challenged my hoarder mentality.
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Driven by the joy of cleaning, I felt the urge to combine it with the act of letting go of nostalgic belongings. It proved to be a personal test, as I discovered that parting with sentimental items wasn’t as easy as I thought. It felt like I was discarding pieces of my very being. However, I decided to take it step by step. After a thorough cleaning session, I bravely let go of the most useless things without looking back or caring. Surprisingly, the next day, I didn’t even miss them. This realization made me wonder why I hadn’t attempted this before.
The following year, I found myself cleaning the drawers once again. This time, it was more challenging than anticipated. Two reasons contributed to the difficulty. First, I had kept these items for an entire year, and their presence triggered a wave of nostalgia and emotions from deep within. Second, I had already filtered out most of the unnecessary items the previous year, leaving me with fewer things to declutter. It became a psychological debate. I decided to take my time, spending moments with each item, reminiscing about the good times they represented. Finally, I bid farewell to some of them.
The next year arrived, and I repeated the process. Each year, my collection of belongings diminished, and some items lost their value over time. I found contentment in the results. While some items still hold sentimental significance, I plan to part with them in the upcoming days. I’m even contemplating revisiting my nostalgia boxes to ensure I’ve truly embraced the art of letting go.
Amidst the nostalgic effects of my old belongings, there are also collections that I’ve accumulated over time. As I’ve mentioned in previous articles, it’s natural for everyone to collect something, whether it’s necessary or simply cherished. Upon glancing around my room, I can see books of all kinds occupying the space without paying rent. While I try to embrace a minimalistic approach to life, I must admit that there are moments when I struggle to let go.
In conclusion, I’ve come to realize that cleaning, both physically and emotionally, is essential from time to time. It’s a process of freeing ourselves from unnecessary baggage and burdens whenever possible. I won’t deny that it’s not always easy or achievable without effort. Nostalgia can be both an effective and destructive force in our lives if we allow it to overpower us, preventing us from fully embracing the present. To overcome this, we should learn to empty our minds of excessive attachment to things and people, striking a harmonious balance between holding onto cherished memories and embracing new experiences.
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