Of Editing the Lost Youth

In the first month of Gretchen Rubin’s one year long Happiness Project, she aimed to toss, restore, and organize. ‘Household disorder was a constant drain on my energy’, she wrote.

I agree. When my room is unorganized, I feel suffocated, mentally. I love the existence of order and serenity. They keep me in my zen and make me happy
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But decluttering means I have to part with my books. Oh, such tragedy! Putting my collection of Sidney Sheldon and John Grisham was a horrible task. I could hear them speak to me “Don’t you love us anymore? Give us a chance to show you passages you love!”

I quickly filled a big cardboard box with my books, sealed it, and wrote ‘BOOKS TO DONATE TO LOCAL LIBRARY’ on the lid of the box.

Oddly enough, I feel lighter. Now, I can tackle my closet!

I scanned thru my closet and told myself that the goal is to keep the ones I wear often and give away the ones that I might wear when I gain or lose weight. I want to be able to reach to a pair of shorts easily.

But how do you throw away any piece of clothing? I invested in these. It’s like throwing away money.

This is when I stopped myself and reread about letting go of attachment. “Most of our troubles are due to our passionate desire for and attachment to things that we misapprehend as enduring entities.” Dalai Lama, the great Tibetan monk, said.

Holding on to my clothes will not make me happy.

I decided to give them all away to make others happy.

When I finally have a much organized closet, I feel energized! I decided to keep up with this positive momentum by tackling my desk!

I knew I was going to stumble upon little pieces of memories with my boyfriend. There were pictures lying in the drawer and a box full of letters we wrote for each other when we were still in high school. They all seem so far away yet closer now.

So many things have changed.

I stumbled upon forgotten days too. Days when we opened a burger stall together during semester break. We kept an inventory of burgers, salad and buns in a little notebook. We recorded the amount of burgers sold and how much of the profit we gained and used to replenish our supply for the next day. We didn’t earn much, but it was enough to keep us occupied.

I remember the huddle masses of customers; lonely folks who weren’t willing to dine alone in coffee shops. The queue was long on most nights because my boyfriend was a perfectionist. He wanted to make sure the burgers were cooked in the inside and the salads were in the right portion.

I stored all my memories away in two shoe boxes. It’s amazing how I crammed thirteen years of memories in two shoe boxes. I stored the shoe boxes in my mother’s room, away from my curiosity.

Maybe one day I’ll revisit the boxes. But for now, I crave zen.