Every fall, I go through my house like a madwoman decluttering and making tough decisions about what stays and what goes (insert audible groan from my children here).
And every season, the stack of unread books next to my nightstand got higher; mocking me that I hadn’t yet made much of a dent in them. I wanted to be a woman who read books regularly, who kept growing. But I didn’t have time. Or didn’t make the time. There were so many other priorities, and an hour to read felt like it needed to be earned, after I got through the endless list of groceries, school announcements, sports schedules, and work that crept into the evening. My lifestyle wasn’t really working for me - but it was familiar. I wasn’t sure how to change it or what I would do instead, so I did what I had done my whole life. I put my head down and kept going. This was just a phase, I told myself. When the kids are a little older, it will be easier.
For so long I held onto the things that I knew, that were comfortable. That I suspected might not be quite right for me, but I didn’t yet have something else to take their place. So I stayed. Or didn’t let go.
Now I’m learning the power in letting go of the things that no longer serve me. To make space for what the next step is going to bring. I’m not getting it right all the time; it’s still tempting to walk down familiar roads. I gave away some of the books, and kept a lot - but moved them away from my nightstand and out of sight.
So this is your reminder that sometimes you don’t need to know what will replace the thing that you need to release, or what the grand plan is -- if something isn’t working, or doesn’t feel right, just...stop. Let it go. Like a leaf, you’re making room for new growth.