All these books have words in them that I want to write about. They are part of the notes of the past 10 years of my life in Melbourne and London and Brisbane. Mixed up with that are my art supplies! My fear of throwing out this waste thoughtlessly is a mix between the unconcious fear of the small g environmental god and the feeling that I too am broken, worthless waste. This is the essential inner break in me that I am asking God to fix with my declutter therapy. I know I am broken – yet God my creator still values me. He will never give up on me. The problem is I FEEL in my heart that I am broken beyond repair – although I KNOW in my head that God loves me and forgives me. The decluttering process is aiming to move the knowledge from my head to my heart. Anyway, all this inner talk centering around decluttering cuts no truck with my beloved the minimalist. He cannot see why I just don’t throw it out. Which of course makes me wonder if I am silly to keep trying to process all this in a way which gives a meaning to the nameless, voiceless hours these notes and pictures and scraps of pretty paper represent. Only God can do that. Is focussing on it focussing on me or on Him? The problem is if I focus just on Him, I fall into some traps with meditation which are outlined so beautifully in an article I will link to when I learn how to link… Anyway, I have enough to do but this is something that is engaging my brain and reactivating my voice. So I will persist.