If you prefer listening to reading an audio version is available below the text
I had almost everything I needed and wanted. Or at least that’s what I believed before I was diagnosed. From my current perspective I can see the word “almost” in that sentence was a self imposed barrier to actually having it all, which is what I said I wanted. Even the phrase “having it all” makes having more than enough a shortcoming. I no longer see having it all as a worthwhile ambition. Having just enough is not my goal either. I respect the minimalist movement but I’m still more comfortable living beyond what is necessary. I prefer a little fat to bare bones. It’s the excess wanting that I am trying to get rid of. The redundancy of collecting stuff is getting to be too much.
This is not a new idea, less is more is a cliche for a reason. I’ve been struck before with the urge to purge but never with the same clarity of purpose that I have today. I’ve spent the last few weeks culling through clutter both figuratively and literally. My house, my car, my relationships, my life all were filled with things that served no productive purpose and didn’t make me happy. That’s what I want to surround myself with people, events and things that serve a productive purpose, make me happy or ideally both. Everything else has to go. I’ve even looked into hiring a personal organizer to help me with some of the planning, building and heavy lifting that comes with physical stuff. The rest is internal. The poem below explains how I feel well. It was written the last time I went on the quest to get rid of wanting and continues April’s theme of repurposed poetry for National Poetry Month.
My Cup
All my life I’ve served the cup running over
Instead of serving the glass half full
What I didn’t realize is that my serving size
Was the reason for my uphill pull
My value was no higher when I had more than my desire
Than now that I have space to store much more
And by not filling to the top I don’t have to miss a drop
Of all the richness life has yet to pour
Now that I’ve tasted the thrill of the anticipated fill
Fullness without a void seems much less fun
I now see the need to spill as what was, just overkill
Used to hide my fear that I’d have none
This must be my test to live with what may seem is less
And recognize less as more than enough
And to finally leave behind all the measures in my mind
That see space as a place to put more stuffby Pamela Davis
