Periodically, I throw things out. Lots of things. Hefty bags full of crap. I used to find myself moved to do it in August, right before the boys' birthdays, and before Christmas, when I knew there'd be a whole boatload of new shit coming into my home. Throwing stuff out always feels so liberating.
Lately, I chuck stuff when I'm restless, or aggravated. Or when I've said for the 17th time...you guys, clean up the playroom, or it's all going in the garbage... basura. Pokemon cards, Star Wars characters, pieces of board games that never get played, a thousand broken crayons, puzzle pieces. All this useless stuff. I look at it all and wonder where did it come from? I didn't buy it. I didn't ask for it. At least I don't think I did. I hate shopping. For me, buying plastic crap for my kids is akin to buying apples from New Zealand or scallions from Israel. It's just not necessary. Not only will it destroy our planet, it will warp their sense of what we need to be happy or at least content. We can grow our own apples and scallions right here at home thank you very much.
The excess garbage is just... garbage. And when it's put out on the curb, I can see the ground on which I stand more clearly. Less dust collects to burn my nose and eyes. And a weight is lifted. I can move through my day without tripping over things I really don't need anyhow. I can lighten my load.
I'm learning how to evaluate what's important, what works and what doesn't. Ideas and habits that don't serve me...basura. Some things I may put up in the attic, in case they come back in style. Or perhaps to be recycled into something with a better purpose. But for now, I'll just continue moving through with my Hefty bag and clean house.