Sorting and purging my entire lifetime’s worth of ‘stuff’ was a tall order with only two (theoretical) months to live.
There was, however, some success:
I bundled my half-composed songs and burnt them to CD.
I compiled my book and sent if off to the printer; It’s a kind of Tolkien Bestiary of Mollydays for my son Oscar.
Photo’s backed up… TICK. My computer is now allowed to explode.
And then there was… the STUFF CULL!
The unearthing process was draining, and amazing. After a lifetime of collecting souvenirs of my travels and thoughts, I reaslised, I really don’t need to hold onto the physical mementos of past. I know my diary scribblings were profound revelations at the time. But these revelations mean little out of context (see tragic poetry).
Whether I hold onto these diaries or not, I seem inescapably bound to having the same realisations over and over: New contexts shedding light on re-occurring themes.
For me, I discovered, there is no such thing as what is “True” there is only “What is true now”.
I did, however, unearth some cringe-worthy teenage poetry. I found it tightly rolled and stuffed inside a wooden bead, then deadlocked in a box with no key. For what, I do not know. Perhaps I thought the future ramifications of my amazing poetry were too much for the world to bear.
*CRINGE* Thank god you can't read it!
What is really magic about things scribbled in diaries is less the words and more the moments of being kept up all night thrashing out an exciting idea. That feeling of FLOW when all experiences and ideas fuse for an "Ah HA" moment.
Most importantly, I decided that I want to be the kind of person who always gets out of bed and turns the light on for these moments, no matter how my sleepy limbs protest.
I had a garage sale. I hung out with one of my dearest old friends and a wonderful new neighbor. It was a great day. Getting rid of these things felt fantastic.
I am now left with 11 Days to complete my emotional legacy on this planet. It doesn’t seem like enough time, but I guess it is more than some people get. If I really had 11 days to live I think I would be hunkering down with my loved ones and maybe having a farewell party.
I would like to be the kind of person who holds no grudges and who speaks with sentences that would stand as the last thing I ever said to people. In this next 11 days I will reflect on the people who have impacted my life and consider what is left unsaid.
There are some people who I need to apologise to.
There are other people who I need to forgive (even just silently to myself).
I hope you will join me in reflecting for a few moments and ask yourself “If I died right now, which relationships in my life would I feel unsatisfied leaving the way they stand, right now”.
Do you want to change that?
I’m not sure if I do… But I’ll give it a go.