An Emotional Hoarder

I recently posted a poem that I had written about how we need to let go of the baggage we carry around. It’s true. And I am guilty, so guilty. On one of the comments, I responded that I was an emotional hoarder. I really am. I remember a slight I was given when I was five years old, maybe. I was going to the first meeting of a Brownie troop and one of the leaders looked at my fingernails and said, and I quote, “You bite your nails! That is a filthy, dirty, disgusting habit.!” I was five. Of course, there was no recording of the comment so it is entirely possible that I have blown it out of proportion in my memory. But what I have not blown out of proportion is how I felt. That is a memory that will not fade. Because I internalized it. I never went back to that troop.  And you know, it still hurts. I no longer bite my nails. But why do I think of that, why do I remember that?  Why am I carrying that baggage?

I am also a physical hoarder, albeit a tidy one. I’ve lived in the same place for almost 30 years so I have a lot of boxes full of a lot of stuff. I have figurines that I was collecting when I was a child, think single digits. I think of it as mindful clutter.  I have pieces of paper that I wrote in university and that was many decades ago. Recently I’ve been going through those boxes looking at the things I have kept and wondering why? Why would I save a piece of paper with three words that have no meaning to me now. But they must’ve been important once upon a time.

I think I do that with bad memories as well. Why do we hang onto those? I want to remember the good stuff! I think I do but I not sure I give it as much weight as I do the negative. And that is my failing. I think there’ll always be a part of me that wonders if I am good enough or smart enough or pretty enough or… just enough. And I also think we all go through the same thing. But I’m starting to realize that I am enough. Of course, some days I am more than enough. Thankfully there’s only one of me in the world, I don’t think the universe could handle two!





Our Baggage

What do you carry,

In the baggage you hold?

How tight do your keep

Your grip?


Do you shuffle and fold,

And occasionally toss,

The items you carry,

Each day?


Are they heavy and cold

Or cheerful and light?

Do you keep

Under lock and key?


Do you share what you have

With those you hold dear?

Or hide them away



Perhaps it is time

To reveal what you have,

To lighten the burden

You hold.


Each of us owns

Some baggage we hide,

So don’t be afraid

To unpack.

Reflection versus Direction

It would appear that the post I had planned to use today is still percolating and not quite ready. So, I thought I would regale you with a post from 2014. I hope you enjoy.

In this day and age almost everything we say or do can be broadcast to the world.  You never know if your picture is being taken on the street or in the shops.  Movie cameras have moved into our workplace, our leisure time and our wars.  We have instant information at our fingertips.  But I have a question for you:  does the instant relating of news serve as a reflection of what is happening or is it directing us.

The whole strategy behind marketing is to influence people in their decision-making.  If one soap brand has a really cool commercial they will probably end up with more sales than another brand.  So it stands to reason that if the newsmakers present, for example, a war with the appropriate packaging it will be accepted more easily by the general public.  We want our world neatly packaged and delivered painlessly to us.

Who was it that said you can never be too thin or too rich?  Well if you’re too thin you die and if you’re too rich, ummmm, I’m thinking.  Okay I got it!  If you are too rich then you become insulated from the human condition.  Okay maybe not.  I’m not too thin and I’m not too rich.  What I am is too damn tired of Hollywood and its environs telling us how to look, how to act, how to think, how to live.  They’re trying to mold us into perfect little automatons.

In order to be yourself you have to disregard the advertisements that tell you what shampoos to use and how your makeup is to be applied, how to dress. If we can be true to ourselves and honour the person we actually are and not the image that society wants us to project, then I believe we have a chance. We need to raise children to be forward thinkers and not sheep-like followers.

I don’t have any children so why am I so concerned about other people’s offspring?  Simply put:  other people’s kids are our future.  If I love this world then I should want it to continue.  The only way that will happen is if we have people at the forefront who care. News needs to be analyzed and marketing gimmicks need to be dismissed. The truth is there, it is just sometimes difficult to see.

I was raised by parents who loved me.  They never taught me to hate.  They did teach me to care.  And I do care.  I care about the atrocities I see happening in other parts of the world.  I care about the horrible greed that exists around so many of our politicians.  I see hate, I see rage, I see iniquities, I see despair and I see fear.  What I also see is love, understanding and compassion.

I also see hope.  Above all else hope will save our world. If we stick together we will overcome adversity and we will flourish. The world is ours.