My husband, a friend recently told me, is a hoarder. He keeps everything. Little appliances, lamps, tools. In my minds eye, I see the land of clutter. The broken things are the worst, she says. He thinks he's going to fix these things one day, but he never will.
I understand the challenge. Broken things call to me too. Fragmented ideas, shredded relationships, missions missing pieces and parts.
When things are broken, it's difficult to know what to save-- what to discard. Easier to stick with the status quo. Leave it there. Store it and get to it later. Store it and maybe it will fix itself. A little super glue here, an epoxy there. I'm tenacious and haven't yet tried everything.
Letting go takes effort, sometimes tremendous effort. It takes courage to jettison the junk so carefully preserved in my heart and in my brain. There will be a void and it is terrifying to trust in a negative space.
Nature abhors a vacuum, said Aristotle. The void will fill. Just be brave enough to breath and let it go.