My Garage

As I look into my garage from the door I wonder if I will ever be able to clear it out and use it. There is clutter from one end to the other and in places it is almost floor to ceiling. Here and there are paths that lead to some of my woodworking tools but there is little room to maneuver. There are books and magazines on the shelves on the walls. Tools are in boxes and hung from pegs everywhere. There are items I'm saving for sentimental reasons and stuff that I can't understand why I saved in the first place. Before the clutter blows out the walls I need to clean house. 

I do believe that a person's garage can become a metaphor for ones life. There are memories both good and bad that we hang onto and store in our brain. There are pathways to areas that we go to all the time and the tools we need to live our lives hang in ever corner of our brain. There are half remembered and half forgotten memories everywhere. There are memories of a child's first steps and words, a lost love, a dearly remembered father or mother. That first kiss and the first heartbreak. There is also that last confrontation with the boss at work. That idiot on the way to the store and the phone solicitor that wont hang up all reside in our memories. 

So tomorrow I'm going out to my garage and I'm going to remove some of the clutter. Throw out those things that are just in the way and make me mad every time I go looking for something I need. I'm going to sort through the boxes and let go of things that just take up room. I going to get my tools out and cleaned up to use as I need them. I'm going to make a shadow box to display my father's tools that I got when he died. That way he will always be looking over my shoulder when I work on a project. I'm going to open up the area to the light so I can see what is important. And while I'm at it I'm going to take stock of my metaphorical garage and do some cleaning there too.