boxes

five years ago I made the decision to shut down my business and my friend helped trailer back all remaining inventory that was stored in the US.

renting a storage space was much to expensive, so I decided to store everything where I lived... and I underestimated how much space it would take up.

box after box of unopened product was stacked against the walls of my suite, then the hallway and eventually into my bedroom. I told myself "this will be temporary", as I planned to sell off everything to recover some funds.

my plan started off great, but the momentum faded and the boxes just sat there... taking up space.

my 200sqft workout space was gone, and now just a pathway

my kitchen is gone, as small boxes sat on countertops

my living space gone, as I'm too ashamed to let anyone see.

I kept telling myself that I'll sell it all off, but I never touched it.

every time I walk past the clutter

I feel the guilt

I feel the shame

as I choose not to do anything.

that was five years ago

and now?

nothing has changed.

the boxes sit collecting dust.

but in those five years I have changed... and today something shifted.

I stood in the livingroom and looked at the boxes

I dropped into presence

and felt what that bubbled up

guilt

shame

anger

resentment

sadness

I let myself feel wave after wave

as I descended deeper

it got quiet

then I saw a vision

of myself taking an idea

and making it real

giving birth to something new

nurturing it

growing it

then offering to the world.

people loved it

my dream was alive

but I didn't know how to keep it alive

I panicked and started scrambling

I reached out for help

but I couldn't save it

and after 15 years... my dream died.

then I felt it

what was hiding

underneath it all

grief

I gave birth to something and it made me feel alive, then it started to die and I couldn't save it.

I blamed myself and held onto dreams of what could have been. Such a vicious cycle of "what if", as I lost myself in a future that will never happen.

every time I walk past the boxes

every time I glance at the boxes

every time I look at my cluttered living space

I remind myself of this

and it hurts.

I chose to stand there and feel all of this emotion that's been buried for so long. surrendered to the grief of losing something that I created and loved.

then I heard a whisper

you did nothing wrong

I looked up and gazed at the stacks of boxes

you followed your heart

chased after your dream

the mistake wasn't letting it die

I could feel my heart burn...

the mistake is not letting go

the tears came as I processed this truth.

I've replayed the fantasy of an alternate reality, where I made different decisions and achieved success. And in a sick way, by keeping the clutter here... the heartache triggers that fantasy.

over and over I tortured myself

but today I unveiled the grief and set it free

then for the first time in five years, I moved the boxes.

I loaded up my wagon with as many as I could fit inside and headed to the landfill.

when it was my turn to unload I stacked the boxes up into a tower... then I took a moment to look at it, as I felt the weight of my past begin to dissolve.

as I let go.

#chasingbutterflies