Year End Cleaning

It’s the last week of 2023. I often talk about how it is a tradition, well perhaps more a custom, in Japan to do a deep cleaning before the new year. After decluttering, purging and cleaning, we would celebrate the new year first by eating soba noodles at mid-night (symbolizing a wish for longevity) while listening to the Buddhist temples to ring the bell 108 times (signifying letting go of 108 desires) followed by three days of feasting with families and friends. Growing up, it was always a sacred time of the year when everything stopped in the world.

Over the years as I lived in the U.S I’ve always attempted to do a modicum of “deep cleaning” at the end of the year yet it became increasingly stressful as my life has become fuller and busier. So I’ve given myself permission to be imperfect though intention is there to prepare for the new year.

Well, with much intention and hope to make this coming year more productive and abundant, my husband and I finally decided to remove a queen size bed from the second bedroom, which used to be a “guest room” and had turned into a “room to work” albeit all the miscellaneous stuff that have been occupying the space. In the last year or so, I started dreading coming into this room to work as I felt the energy rather stagnant. This meant not only removing the bed but also purging a lot of “things” that have been sitting in the shelves but not been touched. After two solid days of sorting and purging, I finally have my new work space decluttered, organized and even adorned with some items that are inspiring and supportive.

There’s a word in Japanese, “danshari (断捨離)” which describes this process. I’m sure this resonates with the Marie Kondo method as well. “Dan (断)” means to refuse to accept unnecessary items; “sha (捨)” means to rid of unnecessary items; and “ri (離)” is to detach. For me as a photographer, it’s always been difficult to let go of photos both the personal memories as well as the photographs I’ve created. But I’ve managed to reduce the files of my photographs to two binders and a box from a whole shelf full of them.

Having said all this, I do believe there’s divine timing. I had to be ready to do this act of letting go at many levels. I simply couldn’t take something like this on while I was carrying compound grief and sorrows. After the cathartic journey and the retreat, I was finally able to face my clutter and deal with it. Meanwhile, I’m learning to trust the process slowly but surely….