by Khouzhan Phoenix
Last night I decided to do a little maintenance on my personal files. Some of the folder tabs had become bent and creased through general wear and tear, others needed replaced thanks to bank mergers and corporate name changes, and I had a small pile of documents for which I had not yet created new files. I grabbed a pen and a box of crisp new manila folders, and, thus armed, sat down to what I thought would be a quick half-hour project.
Instead, it turned into an almost two-hour cleanup campaign. It’s amazing how time gets away from you – I’d had this task on my to-do list for a few months, but apparently in the rush of everyday life, I’d let things get more out-of-hand than I realized! Fortunately, I was in the mood for a bit of purging, and soon the floor was littered with heaps of obsolete insurance policies, statements from cancelled credit cards, miscellaneous documents from my previous job, and other unnecessary items destined for the shredder.
Then I discovered it: a rough draft of the citizenship application I had completed for my ex-boyfriend about three and a half years ago. The too-young-for me, arrogant, lazy ex-boyfriend with an inflated sense of entitlement. The ex-boyfriend who had deceived me, depressed me, driven me (and numerous others) into debt, and abruptly exited my life just before I met my HD. Why had I kept this? If memory serves me correctly, I’d held on to it because it contained information which seemed important to me at the time – his parents’ names, educational history, places he’d lived since moving to the United States… bits and pieces of who he was, things which might have mattered to me if he’d stayed in my life.
I’ve always been a pack rat when it comes to past romances. Tickets from movies and other events, copies of bills from shared cell phone accounts, maps from trips taken together… things like these tend to take up residence in the bottoms of drawers and backs of cabinets in my home. They may not be touched or looked at often, but still they are there, tangible links to a past not always recalled in a sentimental light.
“But why?”, I asked myself. “My heart lies elsewhere now.” I thought over all the work I’d done, am doing, and will continue to do until my wonderful HD and I are finally able to be together. Spellwork, candle magick, service to Les Lois... all for someone far more deserving of my love than most of the men to whom I’d foolishly given my heart in the past – someone who wants to be with me but can’t at the moment due to obstacles in his path.
It was then that I came to an illuminating realization. Perhaps it was not only my HD’s obstacles which have been keeping us at a standstill. Perhaps I, too, have something “in the way.” How can I move forward with my life – and attain the happiness I seek – if I am holding on to material reminders of past failures? Past hurts are still past hurts, even if they’re stuffed in a dusty drawer or cabinet and allegedly forgotten. Perhaps by keeping the evidence of previous bad luck in romance around my home, I was keeping that bad luck around me.
With a flourish, I snatched the citizenship application from my file box. Not stopping to read through it for old time’s sake, I tore the packet of papers in half and dropped it upon the “to shred” pile. A great sense of relief and triumph washed over me like summer rainfall as, without a backward glance, I dove back into my files and continued my purging mission. As I completed my task and hauled the entrails of disassembled documents off to the trash, I was already making a mental list of other places in my home – other repositories of “ghosts from my past” – which would be getting a thorough cleaning in the near future.
If, like me, your progress seems “stuck”, perhaps you, too, need to reassess your definition of “fall cleanup”!
Ayibobo!
Khouzhan Phoenix ♥
