Skeletons in My Closet

Just sharing a personal narrative about the role of clutter in my life.  Thanks for reading! 

SKELETONS IN MY CLOSET by Sara Etgen-Baker

            When I retired my clothes closet became dormant and insignificant—cluttered with useless fabric skeletons.  For a while, these fabric skeletons remained silent, but there’s something about closets, though, that make skeletons restless.  And these skeletons were no different.  Soon they began haunting me. 

“Set us free!” they moaned from the cluttered darkness. 

“Be quiet!” I shouted whenever I walked by. 

“You’ll never wear us again,” they demanded.  “Besides we’re aging and becoming worthless here in the shadows.”

 “What if I return to the workplace?  I’ll need you then.  You just never know.”  I reassured them.  “Let’s wait and see.”

But in the middle of the night their shrill voices woke me.  “Please, set us free.  We don’t need you anymore.” 

I pulled back the covers, flung open the closet doors, and flipped on the light.  “You don’t understand.  You may not need me,” tears trickled down my face, “but I don’t think I can live without you!” 

“Don’t you see?” The skeletons persisted.  “You don’t need us anymore either!”   Then one of them whispered, “I believe you’re procrastinating and keeping us here out of fear.”

“No I’m not!” I insisted as I turned around, slammed the door, and crawled back into bed.  Unable to sleep, I stood up and paced around the bedroom.  What if the fabric skeletons were right?  Why wouldn’t I let them go?  What was I afraid of?  After a restless, soul-searching night, I realized my retirement frightened me.  But why? 

Let’s face it.  Main stream culture doesn’t necessarily value retirees.  So, my retirement seemed like a one-way ticket to insignificance and disenfranchisement from the culture as a whole.  I was afraid of being useless—like the cluttered fabric skeletons in my closet.  Eliminating them somehow meant I, too, was useless. 

One by one, I freed most of the fabric skeletons and began embracing my retirement.  In the process I learned that clutter is a postponed decision and is always about feelings—whatever those feelings might be.