I was born to a ‘hoarder’. My mom still saves stuff from when I was one year old - and earlier!

I married a ‘hoarder’ - though a constant struggle is ‘reforming’ her a bit! (don’t tell her I said it, though)

I gave birth to a ‘hoarder’. Age for age, her collection of ‘valuables’ would rival my mom’s - and even make her acknowledge her match!

In the midst of these ‘Clutter Queens‘, I live… my most treasured memorabilia of four decades resting in a small briefcase in the attic.

• It has my Rubik’s cube, that I used to solve in under 3 minutes as a school-boy.
• It has a pen I wrote my school final exam with - and ranked 6th in my State.
• It has letters of application I sent to medical schools in the U.S. for training positions that I didn’t get.
• It has a diary storing highlights of my life since 1984.

And little else.

How come?

Because, by nature, I enjoy clearing out clutter. And when those moods hit me, there’s chaos around the home!

I get into ‘clean up’ mode and pick up something to throw away.

“Not that, dear. I want it” says my wife.

I glare at her… but back down at the next sentence.

“If that goes, so does your (one of the few things I treasure)”

So I drop it, and pick up the next piece of ‘junk’.

And a piercing scream is followed by, “Daddy, that’s my precious ____ . Don’t throw it away. Please. Please. Please.”

The pleading won’t end until I give up.

Finally, after spending 30 minutes on a task that should have been done in 5, I carry down a box or bag - only to meet the glaring stare my mom fixes on it.

“You aren’t thinking of throwing away that, are you?” she asks. I wearily subject the contents to her scrutiny - and carry out a much lighter box to the garbage bin.

After each of these tussles, I think about the act of cutting out clutter.

Both in our physical lives, and in the world of our thoughts and past memories.

My uncle visited us recently, after a hiatus of over 10 years. For weeks, my mom was excited and could speak about little else.

When he finally arrived, after ramping up anticipation to fever pitch, the ‘actuality’ was a relative let-down. After his visit, there was little said about it.

Reality had shattered illusion.

Nostalgic moments are best treasured in our minds. On that rich, variegated stage, in a show of which we are director, producer and actor rolled together, we can give those memories any tinge and flavor we wish.

Smooth out the wrinkles. Conceal the lines and scars. Erase any unpleasant associations or character flaws.

And on the screen of our mind, we can play back those lovely nostalgia movies any way we like.

But once you focus the harsh spotlight of today’s reality on those fanciful thought forms, the magic disappears. Mirages dissolve like lovely chalk drawings on the pavement on a rainy day.

What’s left behind is bleak, ordinary, even boring.

That’s a pretty sad way to re-live the best memories of our rich lives, don’t you think?

Nostalgia is a sentimental attachment to the past, a wistful look at vintage memories that make you go ‘Aah…’

And your ‘clutter’ might just be someone else’s trigger for those memories.

Just make sure you save the right ‘clutter’ to use as triggers - or else they’ll end up shooting you in the foot, and make you go ‘Ouch!’ instead!