letting go

Isn't it amazing how much rubbish we collect as we waddle through our lives. Moving house helps sort out the important from the irrelevant whilst always maintaining a degree of just-in-caseness. Being partway through my 2nd move in 2 years I travel fairly light though still have a lot of things that should beggar the question "when was the last time you used/needed/wanted/wore that?" Today, while looking for some pics of a friend (who's emigrating) I trawled through half of my photos, the old fashioned printed ones. It was reassuring to see my ability to take pictures has got better but less inspiring to see what a low base it started from. A work in progress. As I reminisced of people and places I couldn't help wonder why I still had most of them. Old girlfriends, lost friends, mostly people and places who now have no bearing on my life. People who I no longer wanted to remember for one reason or another. What is it that makes us hold on to these? I decided that next time I looked in that box I owed it to myself to sort out the important from the irrelevant. Then put it back in the wardrobe, just in case.