Our basement is where all good things go to die. Chipped china, seasonal décor, outgrown tee-shirts, empty frames, cushion covers sans cushions. All well used and well loved for a season, all dying a slow death under a cover of dust and disuse.
“I’m going to put this in the basement for now” has become a family euphemism for the demise of something we once deemed essential. The set of dishes I never unpacked, yet insisted on shipping across the ocean three times during our two moves abroad. My son’s canary-yellow stuffed bird bearing scissor gashes lovingly repaired by uneven stitching…
Join me at In Touch Magazine for the rest of the story on the art of release, and making space in our soul (not just our basements) for all of the tired things that accumulate over time.
