My friends and family have too often heard that I’m decluttering. As a former, long-time writing instructor, I’ve had paper in all forms, including teaching resources, student records, student paper samples, meeting notes… and even all of my graduate school notes, readings and written assignments. This weekend I made life-changing (no, I’m not being dramatic) strides in paper-recycling and paper-shredding, and I feel incredibly lighter and clearer.

Because, earlier this weekend, my big epiphany (with the help of a couple of conversations with friends) was “I’m not that kind of teacher anymore.” Letting go of a nearly two-foot stack of paper of rhetorical theory, pedagogy and composition from my grad school days, I was assured that since I hadn’t looked at these readings in the last 11 years or so, I probably wouldn’t have a future need for consultation, either. As I reviewed my teacher files, I realized that holding on to this or that syllabus or assignments for writing and rhetoric college courses or teaching resources or—gasp!—overhead transparencies with teaching-related content isn’t helpful for me anymore. By clearing that stuff, not only do I have more physical space and a lighter feeling, I’m also officially saying to the Universe, “I am someone else now and accept my new tools and employment.”

How can we all really say yes to what we want? Another example that comes to mind is letting go of pictures of former significant others, in order to allow someone new to enter our lives. Or, we can let go of letters (yes, the handwritten ones) or even e-mail messages that don’t contain words that lift us; many years ago, I finally burned a whole shoebox of letters from former boyfriends and actually had more dates that year. In addition to letting go, we have the Law of Attraction, manifestation and optimism, lovely topics for deeper exploration in other blog posts.

As I prepare for a new life, sans college writing instruction, I’m realizing that I need to really show the Universe and myself that I’m serious about choosing a new path. I’m puttin’ it out there. When we walk the walk, talk the talk, and let go of what needs going, we support what we want and what newness is to be. What a sweet, tingly feeling of creating a container—like an emptied-out file box—to hold something fresh and better!