Nothing

Six bags. Six, huge, black, plastic, trash bags. Econo-sized. So packed full that I could barely lift them into my van for transport to Goodwill.

Six. That's how many bags I filled with clothes, shoes and purses from my closet on Saturday. SIX BAGS! Seven, if you count the one filled with trash and other stuff too horrifying even for Goodwill.

It was not easy to let go of it all, despite the fact that every single article that landed in a bag was either in bad condition, tragically out of style or ill-fitting. I wore little of what was packed into that closet, especially since no longer having to don business attire on a daily basis.

It's not the individual items that were hard to part with. It was the false sense of security that having all those bad clothes gave me. It was a just in case thing. Just in case... I have to go to some event or... the weather turns or... I have to go get another job and... I don't have the money to buy something new.... I'd better hang on to this big pile of shit. Just in case.

It was a security blanket. A big, worn out, cheesy, scratchy, deeply-discounted security blanket.

One question determined whether each shoe, belt, jacket, blouse or trouser would stay or go..."How would I feel if I put this on and wore it out in public?" That one question made the whole process pretty easy. And once I got going there was no stopping me.

Now, there is more empty space in my closet than filled. There are more unused hangers than used. There are more vacant shelves than occupied. And that's okay. In fact it's better than okay. It's perfect.

My whole life right now seems to be one big purge. Something deep down inside is telling me to make room for what's coming. Clear out the old and prepare for the new. Themes of empty buckets and blank slates keep presenting themselves over and over again...

Can you remain unmoving until the right action arises by itself?

Risking the appearance of weakness, takes strength...

The master doesn’t seek fulfillment… Not seeking, not expecting, she is present, and can welcome all things.

Become nothing, and He'll turn you into everything.

Nothing. That's the word that keeps appearing. Over and over again. I hear the word nothing. Be nothing. Do nothing. I am enough. Just as I am. All is well.

It's so very hard for me to do nothing. I am a doer. I am inclined to snap into action. I pace. I flitter. I fix. I make the bed or pick up around the house. I put dishes away and fold clothes. I design a new website or fret about my video for Creativity 101. I must DO something.

It's fear that keeps me doing. Fear that doing nothing will result in nothing. And yet somehow, I know that this is what I must do right now. Become nothing. Make room. Clear space.

Everyday for as long as I can remember, I have prayed to be filled with inspiration that flows outward. Don't I need to be empty in order to be filled?

So I'm cleaning out closets, real ones and metaphoric. I'm making space. I'm becoming open and receptive. And each bursting bag that I haul to Goodwill or to the curb makes me feel that much more light and airy. Like an empty suitcase, ready for the next big adventure.

I have a print hanging above my desk by Brian Andreas. I think I've mentioned it here before. The image is one of an abstract woman. Beside her is a bag in which she is placing various items. The caption reads, "She left pieces of her life behind her everywhere she went. It's easier to feel the sunlight without them, she said."

Yeah. That pretty much sums it up.