I want to open my closet and see possibilities.
I want to feel contentment.
I want to clothe myself in contentment.
I want to cast burdens off and down.
But when I open my closet door, I realize there are hangers I avoid and corners I avert my eyes from.
This awareness took time to realize and even more to pin words onto it.
Yet deep down, I now know the aversion stem from my "reject" clothes, the clothes I wore when being rejected or rejecting someone.
Through no fault of their own now each piece has memories woven into the cloth.
Maybe it's imprinted because in those moments I desired to disappear into the folds, pleats, patterns, and hems. Whatever the reason, there is a remaining hurt that can't be washed or ironed out.
I might even wear the clothes still to prove that a memory can't control me.
But why require such defiance in getting dressed? Why keep such a touchstone? Why wrap myself in it?
People, people other than myself, must also have this closeted issue. This un-shared thought and gut response to our breakup clothes.
I've decided to cast off burdens and bless. Why not give these and donate them to someone with a clean slate for their benefit and for mine?
Because blessing others heals.
Because giving heals.
Because giving freely opens up a world of possibilities, a world where less is more.
I will cast off my burdens to bless.
I give these clothes with my whole heart.
I give these for my whole heart.
Looking for a place to give?