Easy ways to release what you don’t need and make space
for more of what you really want in your life
One man’s treasure…
In London, my friend Jacqueline’s dad has an amazing
collection of artifacts. Miniature pound notes, early coins
and currency, oddly wound telecoms test decks, engraved books,
and more, much more. They’re all stored in the loft,
have been there for many years (Charles started collecting
as a young man, he’s now a granddad). Jacqueline’s
been after him for years to clear it out, then suddenly the
roof blew off in a storm and they all had to deal with it.
Seemed like a bit of a disaster but actually, turned out they
went to collectors fairs together, sold quite a lot of stuff,
even finally proved his ‘eye’ and ability to choose
something that would later appreciate in value. They both
had a lot of fun. And their loft is now so pristine, all labelled
and boxed, that they’ve even been able to offer a home
for my London china and few last treasures!
Stuff and junk (especially when it’s literally ‘hanging
over your head’ like this) drains ones energy much more
than you might ever imagine. As does every single little thing
that you have hanging around, unresolved, however small. You
know what they are. They will just pop into your mind in response
to the question ‘What haven’t I resolved yet?’.
From that person you have yet to apologise to, to the small
amount of money you owe a friend, to the hidden percentage
the tax man never got. You just know, don’t you?
Having flitted off to Bali from London about four years ago,
leaving myriad things unresolved and also for my ex to handle,
it has taken enormous energy and effort to get back on top
of things. (I say ‘back’, though in fact I never
was on top of things, so this is new!)
Continuing on my ‘clearing quest’, in London,
I visit my tax advisor in Willesden, a rather run down area.
Not only are the parking ticket machines vandalised, the display
windows all scratched and illegible, but on finally spitting
out a ticket (after I randomly enter money), they read ‘Brent
Women’s Protection League – Against Violence’
on the back which kind of sums it up. Putu is fascinated by
the automation in London ‘there are machines for everything!’
he exclaims. Fascinated by the organisation – traffic
wardens with automated ticket printing machines and links
to HQ, the machines on the underground which suck up and validate
the train tickets. Road signs that warn if you are driving
too fast – ‘Slow down’! It is amazing when
you think about it, see it with new eyes.
James, my tax advisor, quiet, unassuming, always moving from
one paper-piled office to another, quietly announces that
we’ve done it, the returns are done. Now instead of
me owing the tax authorities six hundred pounds in fines,
it transpires they owe me an eight hundred and fifty pound
refund! Wayhay! A vast black cloud suddenly lifts. It is such
a strong feeling, I suddenly realise just what a negative
energy pile I’ve been living under. Phew!! WHAT a relief!!
Another friend’s been telling me about her auntie and
her amazing festooned collection of junk. It’s impossible
to even get in to some of her rooms, so full are they. And
there’s a lady in the newspapers who has kept every
plastic carrier bag she has ever received… Jacqueline
smilingly recounts a tale of a TV programme in which an American
lady parts hoarders rather unwillingly from their junk (kicking
and screaming, by the sound of it). ‘They deal with
the physical, but not the emotional’ Jacqueline says,
sagely. So it seems there’s lots of talk of ‘clearing
clutter’ and ‘storage systems’ but nothing
on what the junk means and how it got there in the first place.
The science bit…
And that’s the real work of dealing with ‘junk’
– dealing with the emotions attached to it and also
dealing with the decision making process of letting it go,
which can be tiring. It can be wonderful too, though –
as Jacqueline and her dad discovered, and as I found too,
when I cleared my ten boxes of stuff in London a year ago.
I discovered almost a whole box of ‘thankyous’
from friends and family, and realised that I give more than
I give myself credit for. And I discovered a whole lot of
work related stuff – even major projects that I’d
done and forgotten about completely! It was great validation.
The ‘things’ in the boxes are not really needed.
They’ve been sitting for months unused, haven’t
they? It’s what they represent that is significant.
Usually they represent things which have not been fully integrated
into one’s person (or energy field). That too, is why
dealing with it can be exhausting – we have so much
to integrate. That means, we need to look at the old situation
being represented, remember it, consider it, re-gurgitate
it in the light of what we now know, who we now are, and then
put the whole thing to bed in a new way. Phew! – That
is a lot!
And only then, perhaps, can we chuck the original item. Though
hanging on to the item can be a way of kind of refusing to
change – to let go – to move on – even,
to trust who we are now. For actually, we don’t really
need anything! Any things. We don’t really need any
things. In order to be who we are. We carry it all with us
as part of our energy field (aura) anyway. Nobody can take
the sum of experiences away from us.
Practical techniques for ‘Letting Go’
1. If you can’t decide whether you need something or
not, simply ask yourself ‘is this good energy or bad
energy for me?’ This quickly sorts the ‘sheep
from the goats’ for me. Allow that sometimes even something
new and apparently useful may still be ‘bad energy’
– and let it go.
2. If you feel very attached to something, try to define
what that thing represents (for example, my tjanting, special
hot wax pen for making batik, that I’ve held onto, unused,
for twenty years, represented my ‘ability to continue
to make batik’. Of course, I know I already have that
within me! So I let the tjanting go (finally!) If you discover
something like this that is an important symbol for you, imagine
the symbol floating into your heart (or wherever in your body
it seems to need to go) and being integrated. This should
help you to be complete with it.
3. If you have many items of something (like a chest of love
letters for example) try keeping just a few examples. Just
the ones that sum it up. You can greatly reduce your volume
of stuff this way.
4. Desperate measures: record your treasures on a digital
camera. Keep the images on your computer or on a CD. Get rid
of the actual objects. This really works for me – I
can look at the things any time without keeping the junk.
And actually, my folder of ‘treasures’ on my computer
is pretty much already become ‘trash’!
5. Motivate yourself: think how much lighter you’ll
be once you’ve cleared out your stuff. And how much
space there will be for lovely NEW things (people and experiences
too, not just things.)
6. Clear your realtionships, too: in fact, clear any unresolved
things that come to mind, however small, in the best way you
can. Make contact, apologise, write, do whatever you feel
needs to be done to complete. Even if you don’t get
the response you want, even if the person involved in unavailable
or even dead, do what YOU need to do to resolve it for you.
It’s so worth it!
7. Easy does it! Don’t go too hard on yourself. Recognise
that clearing does take emotional energy. Pace yourself (do
one file, one box, or one action per day for example) and
if you are dealing with a big pile of stuff, throw a sarong
over it to turn it back into ‘one thing’ so that
it doesn’t do your brain in looking at it!
8. Get friends to help.Love lost to circumstances…
I’ve realised that I don’t need a sack of love
letters to carry with me what I learned, and earned, from
an important relationship when I was about twenty-three. Though
I do have one letter, written on thin, translucent Chase Manhattan,
Milan paper, that I threaded with dried roses on silvery wire,
beaded, made into an artwork and then wrote a song about.
All good ‘integration’ methods, these, and very
healing, too!
In London in summer I spent a curious yet delightful afternoon
with my friend John, listening to him reading his old love
letters. I was out of sorts, he was indoors, doing some sorting,
so we kind of brought it together and hung out, witnessed
each other. I lay on the settee refusing to move and being
brought cups of tea and nice food (that was the deal), and
John opened his box of loves loved, lost and overseas, all
washed up, and sometimes… nebulous, unresolved. ‘You’re
good at sorting things out’ he said ‘You can help!’
(hah! That’s a laugh! Maybe I’m just good at giving
that appearance…! Though being witnessed doing just
about anything is a powerful good thing).
A funny box of stories and ephemera– teenage John travels
all day to visit the girl near the beach but finds her not
in. Twice. And a kind of wistful innocent-beguiled street
maiden in Paris who wants to be rescued. And ‘loves
lost to circumstances’ if you’ve ever heard Roger
McGough’s wistful poem about love mysteriously disappearing
amidst the mundanities of daily existence.
For my part, I share a dirge, a long moan about a previous
relationship, that is great to let go of. John films it on
my new video camera and I learn a bit about filming from the
weird things he does. Always seems to have the camera at a
dodgy angle. Poking about looking at something he shouldn’t.
Also sometimes films what’s going on inside or outside
the room instead of filming me talking. It makes it interesting.
You get a kind of commentary from me speaking, and the room
also tells a story. This is the beginning of me becoming a
performer too – later I perform some of my poems at
a little underground club in Notting Hill. A long held dream!
John turns the camera on himself at one point to film a disclaimer
‘it wasn’t me!’ he announces, flapping his
hands when I am moaning a particularly heinous crime of my
ex ‘it’s not about me! I wasn’t there!’
The camera hones in on his little pointy teeth grimacing.
It’s funny.
I don’t know whether he did throw anything away, but
it felt good, and perversely, as I have that afternoon captured
on video, I can enjoy it again any time I wish…NEXT
ISSUE: Treasure in London, Junk in Bali?
Musings on the delights and complexities of managing possessions
(and lives) across continents…
Jeli Lala created the ‘Ashram of Spiritual Jewellery
and Art’ at no. 1, Sukma St., Tebesaya, Ubud, with her
husband, Putu S. She has studied yoga and many other spiritual
practices for more than ten years. She writes “As a
life-long artist, I’ve been exploring my inner world
since I was a child. In this column, I will share some of
my personal experiences and spiritual methods – hopefully,
you’ll find this interesting, and maybe it will give
some ideas for your own journey”.
Jeli welcomes comments and may be contacted on:
Email: jelila@jelila.com
Website: www.jelila.com or www.imagine-retreats.com
