De-Cluttering Christmas

The other month I was reading a book on Ignatian spirituality and the author talked about how lay people could learn from the religious' vow of poverty. He was talking about how people sometimes get so caught up in amassing wealth and possessions, they lose track of the essentials. Well, apparently what he said really got to me because I woke up in the middle of the night and decided that I seriously needed to de-clutter my room.

And those who know me well would know that that is certainly a major a-ha moment for me. I am a packrat and I have a tendency hang on to things even when they no longer serve their purpose because at the back of my head I figure I might one day use them. Of course that very rarely happens. But when it does, it reinforces the bad habit of keeping things far too long.

I did not get a lot of sleep that night and could barely concentrate at work the next day. When I finally got home I attempted to clean my room and came up with 1 trash bag filled with trash, about 3 boxes and I trash bag filled with still useable stuff that I gave away. My dad saw me in the middle of my mess and asked me, "What's gotten into you?" I told him about what I'd read. He looked a bit stunned. Bet he never expected it. Not after 25 years of trying to get me to clean my room. Unlike me, he's a neat freak.

As I was discarding things, I found that there was something very liberating about letting go of my material possessions. And the next day and weeks after, there was a lightness to my spirit that crept up in me. And I realized that I didn't just need to de-clutter my room, I needed to de-clutter my life.

And this Christmas season, I need to remind myself of that more than ever. Sometimes the commercialism can get a bit overwhelming and I find myself longing for things I don't really need. I don't have to have the most advanced gadget or the most fashionable clothes. I really don't need another pair of shoes or another bag. What I need is to remember that the important thing about the season isn't even how much I can or can't afford but how much of myself I am willing to give up. And what it takes to make me really happy.

The older I get, the more I find joy in giving than in hoarding gifts (which I used to be so preoccupied with as a child). There is more satisfaction in shopping for others than in shopping for myself. And there seems to be less joy in opening gifts over the years. Some people might say it's the law of diminishing returns (which is probably the only thing I ever remember from Economics class). But on the contrary, I find it's not because I am more cynical or more jaded or more choosy about my choice of gifts but rather it's because I find that the real gifts are given to me all year round. And they don't come in boxes.

I used to think it was a very strange idea of God to decide to be born in a cave in a middle of nowhere. Couldn't he have arranged to make a reservation in an inn? He is God after all. But now, when I think about it, it makes so much more sense. In choosing to be born in a stable, God shows us how to de-clutter Christmas and to keep our eyes focused on what is essential-the love of family, the warmth of friendship, the light of faith. And everything else?Just icing on the cake. Or to use a Christmas metaphor, just trimming on the tree.