Turning Trash into Treasure
Some Reflections on Spring Cleaning
In my freshman year of college, I used to joke that I was a can with multiple unopened layers. As the new kid in the block, I used the blank slate as an opportunity to be the person that “everybody knew, but nobody knew.” I placed myself in a neatly packaged box and carried my mystery around as a badge of pride, peeling off each lid solely to those who sought the challenge. But as the years went by, I realized that having nobody understand me wasn’t exactly the best idea. Eventually, I embraced the colorful mess and shared my multi-faceted layers.
However, these thoughts resurfaced as I finally decided to clean my room earlier this week. I procrastinated a good ten years in this house and five months into quarantine until this very moment. In the wise words of Marie Kondo, it was about time for me to let go of items that no longer “spark joy.” It was a long and tedious process, but in my week-long cleaning spree, it dawned on me that perhaps that old joke never really left me.
In the years I have stayed in this home, my room has become a representation of who I am. Despite my lack of spring cleaning routines, my room actually did not look like an utter mess. It seemed nicely decorated and neat on the outside, with several cabinets and sturdy shelves keeping my safe place intact. However, opening the drawers, and unearthing layer after layer proved otherwise — I had receipts sandwiched in between old books, random brochures scattered here and there, candy wrappers inside cringeworthy planners, and crumpled notes jammed in most of my drawers. I’d throw pieces of my sentimentality that I can never let go of in random places and scatter them in different spaces until I’d eventually forget they ever existed.
You see, I’m a sucker for taking and keeping things. I don’t mean the latest iPhone or designer bag or make-up — I mean random movie tickets, tissue napkins from a great restaurant, or a leaf that reminds me of a good day. I couldn’t care less if the wallet I owned was fringed on the sides — if a new wallet couldn’t carry the memories that came along with the old ones, I wouldn’t even bother considering it.
People often throw away these things quite quickly, seeing trash in what I see as treasure. But I’ve always believed that the things that matter most aren’t all that grandiose. They’re the little forgotten reminders that bring about a positive element of surprise; the photos that show me glimpses of who I once was and how far I’ve come; the simple joys of finding random souvenirs to places I’ve once experienced. It’s finding grandeur in the mundane; it’s turning a box of old letters into a raffle draw to remind me that these people were once a part of my life, and it’s never too late to say hello again. It’s using these little trinkets to keep me grounded on where I currently am when my mind wanders in far off places. While it may be true that one shouldn’t dwell on the past, I enjoy reminiscing on my old experiences as good company during rainy days, reminding myself of the even better I have yet to experience if I opt to power through.
I think that we all carry these pieces of “trash” in our private rooms and headspaces, creating multi-faceted layers underneath our well-presented facades. Now the question is — what do we do with all the junk? We often shoot these pre-loved items down the garbage bag and into a far-off place, away from our existing realities. If we manage to make them invisible from our day-to-day lives, it seems that we get to move forward and create brand new futures for ourselves.
But contrary to popular belief, I think it’s not about throwing away and letting go of all the pieces. Maybe it’s about revisiting these old trinkets in the past, putting things together, and organizing them in ways that allow you to turn the trash into treasure. In finding a new home for sentimental items, one can find peace in knowing that these memories are in a better place.
For now, it’s time to pack and put these things away again to open, rearrange, and keep me company for another day.
