Slowly, Slowly I Will Get To Them All

Overwhelmed by the endless tasks on my endless "To Do" list I have been forced to take a deep, deep breath and whisper, endlessly, "Slowly...Slowly I will get to them all".  It is as though I have to adopt a non-time-sensitive mantra of "it will happen".

And if I don't get to sorting the oodles of boxes of kids' clothes dropped by to share with others, what then?  A bomb, with my name etched in the pointy part (the technical name of which I never did find online - and now the government likely has me on some sort of scary threat list because I was even searching the term 'bomb')...will that bomb hurtle form the sky straight into my chest? 

And what if the gardens aren't weeded?  Will the property police screech in with sirens blaring, handcuff & pat me down?

And as the guilt of non-completion roots its way in, I begin to question why I keep certain things, and why the decision of 'to keep or not to keep?' becomes so darn difficult.

We're not meant to have tonnes of stuff, let alone get stressed about what to do with that stuff...

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6:19-21

Usually it's not even an issue: Give It Away being the primary, guttural response.  And then the pile of 'give away' grows and overwhelms; "I have to drop this by so-and-so's place and take this to who-haw-person and email toodly-doodly-doo about whether they want this item".  Geesh.

Don't tell the Recycling Squad but sometimes, when the give away pile looms large I simply give up and chuck it all in the yellow bag to go out with next week's garbage.

Geesh geesh geesh.

 "Slowly...Slowly I will get to them all".  This morning I organized some kids clothes and tidied the basement corner where they're housed.  I even uncovered some "treasures".  Why, oh why, there was a furnace filter from the turn of the century, unlabeled VCR tapes (remember those?) and a duct-taped hockey helmet shoved into a box with girls' running shoes I am likely never to know...

"Slowly...Slowly I will get to them all". 

Please feel free to remind me of this!  And please be sure to enjoy that same freedom that comes with letting stuff, and stress, and guilt go!