My basement is my own personal museum.
On display, I have hopes and dreams. In boxes, I hide unfinished projects. And a lot of other crap. Stuff that I have no idea how it even came into my house. What was I thinking?
The basement is the final frontier on a journey to tame the "stuff" wilderness. Closets, drawers, under beds, even the shelves in the garage have all been cleaned and preened.
It has taken me a year to go through the entire house, and I can no longer avoid it.
Today I wrote about Grabbing 2018 by the . . . horns and clearing out the basement is necessary for clearing out the foundation of what is keeping me stuck. I can't explain it very well, but I'm working on the metaphor and relationship between having a messy basement and having a messy life foundation.
Stick with me . . . I will make sense of it all.