to keep, to share, to throw.

As April unfolds, I find myself immersed in the ritual of spring cleaning, which this year feels more like a heartfelt reckoning. The clutter that has accumulated in my home has transformed my sanctuary into a mere storage space. It’s time to embark on a journey of cleansing, sifting through the treasures and remnants of my life.

There are things I will keep close to my heart. My collection of children's books, a testament to my love for stories and imagination, will forever hold a special place on my shelves. Each title, penned by beloved authors, has woven itself into the fabric of my childhood. Though I’ve paused my collection due to space constraints, I dream of the day when I can pass these gems to a public library, sharing their magic with future generations.

When it comes to what I will give, my closet reveals a bounty of clothes that no longer fit—remnants of a past self. As I’ve grown, many of my favorite pieces have become too small, but the joy of sharing them fills me with warmth. Last Christmas, seeing others delight in my donated clothing was a beautiful reminder of community. I envision visiting my neighborhood again, smiling at familiar faces wearing my old shirts and pants, each telling a story of connection. I also plan to donate worn-out teaching books, despite their age, hoping they will find a new home where they can inspire.

Then there’s the painful necessity of what to throw away. Cardboard boxes and used paper are ready to be recycled, lightening the load of my home. Bottles, plastic containers, and tin cans can finally be discarded, making room for new beginnings. Among the clutter are broken devices—long past their usefulness—that should have been tossed years ago. Letting go of these physical remnants is like shedding layers of an old skin, making space for renewal.

In this metaphorical spring cleaning, I also reflect on what I am keeping emotionally. I hold onto the memories of the past—the triumphs and struggles that have shaped me. I’ve cried rivers over feelings of isolation, neglect, and abandonment, but those tears have forged a resilience within me. I am grateful for the spectrum of emotions, as they have sculpted me into a stronger person.

I will share my stories, transforming them into a digital diary that captures my journey. Though some may be confusing to others, these narratives serve as milestones of my growth—not just as an individual but also as a son, a friend, a teacher, and a believer. The bounty from my garden is another treasure to share, as the responsibilities of nurturing it can sometimes feel overwhelming. Giving away some of its harvest is like a mother releasing her children into the world—a bittersweet but necessary act.

Finally, I must throw away the remnants of sadness—old files that weigh heavy on my heart, letters to be shredded, and photos to be deleted. These physical items no longer serve a purpose; they are mere echoes of a past that has lost its significance. I acknowledge that one year of sheer happiness has now become a cherished memory, intact in my heart, yet tethered to the past.Through this spring cleaning, I embrace the beauty of letting go and the promise of new beginnings. Each act of clearing, whether physical or emotional, is a step towards a lighter, more fulfilling life.