You know that drawer where you put all the odds and ends, the one full of things you might need one day but it turns out you rarely do? Well I have one of those and this week it had a clean out. I attacked it with uncharacteristic ruthlessness, discarding three quarters of its contents. If I hadn't used it in the previous twelve months, I figured I didn’t need it.
The drawer is now vacuumed, scrubbed and exquisitely tidy with just a handful of things, which I can see at a glance. It's a nice feeling. Funny isn’t it than getting rid of stuff can actually make you feel a little lighter and brighter.
Whether it's cluttered bench tops or desks, outgrown shirts or jeans languishing in wardrobe corners, out of date spices on pantry shelves or that fast accumulating stuff filling valuable space in the garage, shedding makes room for the fresh and new.
Shedding stuff, whether physical or emotional, opens the door to so much more.
That’s something nature seems to know instinctively. So many of the great secrets of living well are written across the landscape if we have eyes to read them.
The drawer is now vacuumed, scrubbed and exquisitely tidy with just a handful of things, which I can see at a glance. It's a nice feeling. Funny isn’t it than getting rid of stuff can actually make you feel a little lighter and brighter.
Whether it's cluttered bench tops or desks, outgrown shirts or jeans languishing in wardrobe corners, out of date spices on pantry shelves or that fast accumulating stuff filling valuable space in the garage, shedding makes room for the fresh and new.
Shedding stuff, whether physical or emotional, opens the door to so much more.
That’s something nature seems to know instinctively. So many of the great secrets of living well are written across the landscape if we have eyes to read them.
A tree grows from the inside out and reaches a point where the bark is restricting its growth, where it can’t expand any more, so it cracks and sheds its restricting bark. Sometimes that’s a gentle shedding in small flakes. Other trees shed their bark more violently, in great sheets or ribbons, but always the tree is set free to flourish.
The whole process and what emerges from under the bark can be truly beautiful and one of the things I most love photographing.
But shedding what is holding back my growth never seems comfortable or beautiful. Whether it’s my expectations of others or myself that keep me stuck, or limiting beliefs about what I’m capable of, they become restrictions to me blossoming. We hold tight to false truths … that I’m less than adequate, that I need to be the perfect partner, parent or friend, that I’m not good enough, strong enough or clever enough.
The whole process and what emerges from under the bark can be truly beautiful and one of the things I most love photographing.
But shedding what is holding back my growth never seems comfortable or beautiful. Whether it’s my expectations of others or myself that keep me stuck, or limiting beliefs about what I’m capable of, they become restrictions to me blossoming. We hold tight to false truths … that I’m less than adequate, that I need to be the perfect partner, parent or friend, that I’m not good enough, strong enough or clever enough.
When the bark is shed so too are the mosses, lichen and parasites which can harm the tree.
There are fears and anxieties that stop me stepping out into the unknown where growth beckons. Instead I cuddle under the warm quilt of familiarity. I allow caution to keep me prisoner and shame to coax me to fit in rather than stand out.
And maybe comparison is the worst prison warden of all. Once I allow myself to compare myself to others, I will always find someone who looks better, does better or seems wiser than me. Comparison kills the joy of being me.
How easy it is to hinder our growth by holding on to beliefs shaped by our past or to march to the drumbeat of the opinion of others. Those things are like the bark that the tree is wise enough to discard.
And maybe comparison is the worst prison warden of all. Once I allow myself to compare myself to others, I will always find someone who looks better, does better or seems wiser than me. Comparison kills the joy of being me.
How easy it is to hinder our growth by holding on to beliefs shaped by our past or to march to the drumbeat of the opinion of others. Those things are like the bark that the tree is wise enough to discard.
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