About the traps these past few weeks Australian comedian Corinne Grant has been touting her book, Lessons in Letting Go. I’ve not read it, so this isn’t a review. But I’ve got all inspired by her constant media appearances during this Aussie Spring to do a bit of a seasonal clean.
My housemate has joked about it before, but I’ve just *really* realised I’m a hoarder. Not a crazy-OMG-news-of-the-week kind of hoarder, but one nonetheless. Given the space and budget I’d be tempted to keep and collect a lot more than I have. Yet before now it hadn’t occurred storing leg warmers from 1984 and an unused cap and a mouse pad from a defunct Australian ISP I worked for (11 years ago) qualified. But it does. Oops.
I kinda feel free with this knowledge. And also a bit driven to consider the causes. It’s not just as simple as throwing it away. Although it helps. Goodbye leg warmers and One.Tel merch. Good luck in your new life.
I’m not gonna go Psych 101 on ya’ll, but it’s obviously a bit of a thing. With causes that date back to whenever. Maybe it’s because my family moved around a lot when I was a kid. Lots of living in rooms full of boxes. Dunno. But I’m wondering how it effects my writing. Surely it must? Everything else does.
As a writer my home is my office. As a writer I kinda have a natural inclination to solitariness. I like alone time. I also like having what could be considered resources around me. Books, note paper, stuff written on note paper, old school and uni stuff, sundry office-y knickknacks. Just in case. What all this adds up to is a bit of a mess. Yet that’s the physical and pretty easily sorted. But there’s the intellectual muddle. The accretion of mental stuff that confuses and gets in the way of creativity. On the one hand writing purges a lot of this. Sometimes even when you’re not meaning to. And this is good and healthy. However sometimes it’s not so easy. Specially since this mental stuff is a block in the way of creativity and is saying you’re rubbish at this. You must be dreaming. And why should anyone care? At all. It reminds me of TV program Takin’ Over the Asylum* when the wanna be radio DJ says something like, ‘it’s not the job, it’s my dreams that are killing me.’ (imagine this phrase in a wonderful Scottish accent.) It breaks my heart. But it’s Truth.
That kind of thinking is a suffocating blanket of years of badness that you just can’t donate to the Salvos and be done. It takes little steps bit by bit until there’s enough cleared away so you can breathe and write. And leave the rest. This little cyber-space is an area to mentally exhale. A step and a clearing so words are free to wanna come out. For the dreams to live.
Phew, well that twas more profound than expected. See what happens when you start throwing things away. Thanks Corinne.
*A six part Scottish program featuring a young David Tennant and Ken Stott. Is good. Go seek it out.