We have lugged around a heavy, oak four-drawer file cabinet, even the runners were wood, for years! I saved it from a discard pile at a school I once taught at. “It’s vintage, solid-wood, and free!” I said.
Michael helped me load it into our once-upon-a-time minivan, unload it, strap it to his dolly, and thump it down the stairs to my basement studio. I was thrilled.
I now had a vintage, solid-wood, and free file cabinet to catalog and save old writing, ideas, letters, research documentation, tax records, bill statements, assembly manuals, appliance and tool information pamphlets, art history research papers, and other articles I found interesting. A folder of letters from editors, with rejections, when they used to take the time to write, and some were handwritten with thoughtful comments. There were more folders of my old writing, attempts at poetry, children’s book manuscripts, and old college research papers.
Yes, when we moved, the file cabinet came too, with all its contents. After several attempts to plan for more square footage in my studio, I have accepted that my file cabinet is too big for my small studio space, and it has forced me to make decisions on what I need and what I can part with. It is not just a question of physical clutter, but also of mental clutter.
I once read that research for published books or articles should be kept for three years after publication. For some reason, I found it very difficult to part with the “research folders” for character, events, lifestyle, etc. The documentation that brought the stories alive felt like a part of me.
I skimmed through folders of old writing, poetry, and manuscripts written 44 years ago. What was I saving them for? I knew I was not going to keep working on them because I had moved on. The stories I had nurtured, salvaged, submitted, edited, and resubmitted. Now, I realized it was healthy to say goodbye to all of it; it was like nurturing a tree that wasn't producing fruit and needed pruning. In a sense, I was pruning myself, as each piece of paper was tossed into paper bags. The old writing was no longer a part of me.
You are probably wondering what happened to the “vintage, solid wood, and free” file cabinet. Michael strapped it to his dolly and set it on the curb with a sign reading FREE. It was gone within the hour: two guys stopped, picked it up, and laid it in the bed of their truck. Michael waved goodbye with a smile on his face! They were happy to have it, and we were thankful it was gone.
For the next task, we ordered a small two-drawer file cabinet on wheels, which fits under my table. It came in a flat box with lots of parts. Michael is gifted in assemblage, having years of practice! He has the top drawer for important family papers, current taxes, and other documents. I have the second drawer for new project ideas and research files for my next book.
I admit, it was not an easy job, but the truth is… letting go (like shedding snake skin, if I were one)… was an opportunity to move forward with fresh ideas.
Have you had an opportunity to weed, purge, or let go of? Did you find it beneficial?
