THE NARRATIVE ARC
Tossing Out My Stuff Gave Me Amazing Clarity
It revealed how much better my life could be
As my hands pushed the thin wooden ceiling hatch upward, the ladder beneath me suddenly wobbled. My heart caught in my throat as I reached down to stabilize it. Thankfully, there wouldn’t be an early trip to the ER that day, but it was a reminder that gravity is real and watching with a mischievous and hopeful grin.
Trying again, I pushed the wooden hatch upwards and to the side. A barely visible string dangled from above. I reached my hand into the darkness, clasping for it a few times before pulling it. A floating light bulb revealed my attic’s treasures, and I groaned.
“More junk,” I thought. Four boxes, none of which I owned, sat and waited for inspection. It felt like bad karma to leave mystery boxes for the new owners as the old ones had for me. One box was filled with random papers. Another had erotic magazines from the 80s, which felt like a troll move to leave behind. Two boxes had children’s clothes and had been chewed up by some unseen rodent.
A month earlier, my spouse had surveyed my home and said, “Your move will only be more expensive and more difficult if you bring all this stuff.”
