Quick Note on the Anxiety Surrounding My Stuff and How to Take the Loss

Me, now, with new friends from all from the Grimes Library--that's right Library of Congress, 2nd isn't that far down the line.

Me, now, with new friends from all from the Grimes Library--that's right Library of Congress, 2nd isn't that far down the line.

Our assignment over the weekend and into Icy Monday was:  office purge.  

Half-Price Bookstore needs books, too, Megs.  

Sure, I agree:  not mine, though, right?

I was putting distance to a minor anxiety attack when my wife looked at me and said, "Honey, you look like maybe you're a little paralyzed."

The emotion was closer to discovering you're driving on black ice at 23MPH.  I barely understood her because she was speaking to me while I was trying to negotiate the black ice.

My friends, I mean, books, were shuttled by me from the shelves to the desk to the floor and then I stopped and looked at them.  And then I realized I still had no idea what to do with them.   How to even begin to choose who should go when all should stay.  

I promptly mumbled something spiritual and headed up to the shower to steam it up a little in the wake of one of her great Clarifier questions:  

"Does it bring you joy or just help you feel less anxious?"

Ouch, stop it.  Black ice.

How is your relationship with your stuff?  Slippery?

Christine has been reading and sharing nuggets from this great little conviction manifesto called Present Over Perfect (why yes, Shauna Niequist, if my books were still going to be present, that would be perfect).

It's kind of hoarding.

So, Holy Spirit, what is up? 

      Just the feeling

      of avoiding this for              

      years.

Hear me:  I'm not kidding around about learning how to Walk the Talk and Hear His Voice.  

But this right here is where Brene Brown's vulnerability rubber often forgets to meet "the spiritual" road--I often forget to practice what I preached:  in my LAST POST.  

I forget to talk to Him.  I forget to start my day basking in His Word and love.  I forget to ask and lean.  And I subsequently get wrapped around poles from all the black ice veering and I neglect to steer back into His heart and ways.

He was not surprised.  Knowing is sort of His jam.

Sometimes I agree with the wrong team.

So,

I just decide and actually let them go?

Y

  u

     P. 

And so I do, because once you hear, it is mostly sort of easy:  Two FULL boxes.   21, son.

But make no mistake, Prophetic Acts are spiritually violent.  My pal Becky said on my way over this AM to sell them, "Now don't you buy anything while you're there."  

Oh, my type is known.

I even took some other stuff I have an unhealthy relationship with to my pal down at Solar Pawn after some ridicu-licious chicken Ramen at Krunkwich and, dear Reader:  I'm proud to say, I took the loss.

Is there anything in your life that really needs to go but you believe for some reason you'd be better off somehow if it stayed?

Hit the ejector seat.  Miss it when it is gone:  you will never have the chance if you never let it go. Cue Frozen song.

It isn't impossible.  

It is hard.  But the game of inches battle toward genuine freedom is worth it.

Fade to Black...