Letting Go

Today I finally decided to clean out my office.

Now, I’ve never thought of myself as a hoarder, but judging by what I found, I may need to reconsider that position. There were remnants of forty years in the commercial door and hardware business tucked into every corner—business cards, lanyards, convention name tags, trade magazines. Even little things like lapel pins, coasters, and coffee mugs. The pile seemed to grow the longer I stood there looking at it.

And truth be told, what you see in the picture doesn’t even scratch the surface.

Which led me to a simple question…
Why?

Why do I hang on to these things? Why is it so hard to let go of a life once lived—a life where I kept my nose to the grindstone, working to support my family and build a career?

A lot of the people who handed me those business cards are no longer here. Others have moved on to different paths. And some, well… life just carried us in different directions.

But as I stood there, I realized something. This isn’t about regret.

I am retired now, and I am living a good life. Susan and I wake up without alarm clocks and without deadlines. We work on our old house, tend to the garden, and enjoy the simple rhythm of the seasons. Sometimes we travel. Sometimes we just sit and enjoy the quiet.

And there is a peace in that… a deep, steady kind of peace.

Still, I suppose I held on to all that old work “stuff” because it felt like a connection—to who I was, to what I did, and maybe even to the idea that I might need it again someday.

But let’s be honest… at seventy years old, I’m not looking to go back to work. I don’t miss the responsibility. I do miss a few of the people, but not the daily grind.

So, there it is.

It’s time to let go.

The office will look a lot better without all that clutter. There will be room now for things that matter today, instead of things that belonged to yesterday.

And maybe—just maybe—Susan won’t have to ask me, “Why do you keep all that old stuff?” ever again.

Although… knowing me, I might hang on to just a little of it.

After all, a life well lived tends to leave a few keepsakes behind.