I've continued my decluttering process, slowly letting go of books and magazines that I knew I wouldn't reread--or in some cases, never got around to reading in the first place, despite once-upon-a-time thinking that I wanted to. I'm lucky to have places to donate these books, so that they can find new readers.
I've been noticing how the books
on my shelves have changed over time. I buy less fiction now, and when I
do, it's usually YA. I buy many more memoirs, many more books of
I'm also noticing there were books I once loved
and reread regularly, but haven't touched in years. Have those books
served their purpose in my life? Have I entered a different phase, where
I need different stories? Or will I go back to those old favorites at
some point? These are the questions I try to answer, weighing these
books in my hands.
I've never been good at letting go of things,
but in the past year, I've become so much more willing and able to do
it. To do it with few pangs, with much relief. With the sense that I am
making room. For what, I don't know yet. But I'm looking forward to