Bye Bye, School Supplies

Many years ago, Marie Kondo inspired me to say goodbye to things that had outlived their use or meaning. The spiritual practice of releasing takes saying goodbye one step further.

Tim Gouw on Unsplash

People marvel when I say that I loved being in school Kindergarten through 12th grade. I never had a “bad year.” I still have yearly elementary and middle school reunions with the old neighborhood kids (thanks, Facebook).

I loved school because I loved (and still love) learning. And I loved school supplies.

Part of my enjoyment of school was connected to the simple joy of a fresh box of pencils, or a 64-count box of Crayola^® crayons with the built-in sharpener in the back, or… a TrapperKeeper^®. I enjoyed going to the stationery section of “box stores” or the mall and feeling paper textures, admiring colorful cards, and, especially, testing out writing utensils. I was constrained by my budget to a modest personal school supply collection, but I definitely coveted.

Recently I cleaned out the old school supply hutch in my home. It was a chore I had put off for some time, partly because I knew it would be tedious and laborious, partly because I knew it would stir up emotions. Cleaning out that hutch would mean sitting with mementos of my childhood and my children’s childhoods, and, as a recent empty nester, nostalgia for my kids’ childhood has been a quick producer of tears this year.

I’ve gone through several iterations of school supply sorting over my twelve years as a homeschooling mom, but, as I cleaned out the hutch, I chuckled at some of the items I had saved due to their extra sentimental and practical value. For instance, a while back I apparently bought a lifetime’s supply of Post-it^® Notes. I’m sure it was for some brilliant project with the kids, though I cannot remember what; all I can say is, come over if you need sticky notes.

And apparently a few years ago I believed I needed to keep a large stash of half-used pencils because “you never know” when they’d come in handy. Long ago, my kids switched over to mechanical pencils, but I still love the old-school wooden ones. I had even kept some saxophone-themed pencils I had bought in high school! And Union Jack pencils I had bought in London when I visited my dad there, oh, thirty years ago?? I have eight rulers and four staplers. I’m not a hoarder, but this story sure makes me sound like one.

As I sorted, I reflected—What still serves me? What is no longer needed? What do I need to let go of, in school supplies and in life?

As I made piles for trash, donation, and keepers, I gave thanks for the things that served me in one season of life and released the things that needed to go. I recalled with fondness the memories of a precious time in the past, and acknowledged it was time to move on.

I cleaned out my hutch as part of a “Releasing” exercise with a spiritual direction training program I am currently enrolled in. Releasing is not easy, because releasing is about addressing attachments. For me, school supplies are about so much more than school supplies; it was about my childhood; it was about a sense of stewarding finances and not wanting to waste resources; it was about looking back on our season as a homeschooling family and sitting with the memories of a grueling yet wonderful season of family intimacy. I did this exercise the same week my three kids were in three different cities, thriving in their own contexts, but away from home, perhaps our new normal.

This verse came to me, Isaiah 43:18-19:

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”

As I have grown older, I’ve learned to become grateful for things in the past I once felt were bitter wildernesses or wastelands; I’m even more grateful than ever for the oases and happy memories. Being able to feel this has required a lot of painful releasing, a process required to see some of the “new things” God was and is doing in my life.

I allowed myself to keep some of the wooden pencils, even though I know I’ll never use them again for another Scantron^® test. There are still a few binders on bookshelves to tackle, and I don’t even want to think about sorting my book collection.

But I’ve never been so eager to create space for God’s work of freedom and spaciousness in my life, which indeed is a new thing God is doing.

How about you?

• Is there something you need to say goodbye to?

• Do you sense an invitation to release anything in this season of life?

• When was the last time you decluttered: physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually?