Mudlarking

Inspired by January Gil O'Neill's poem "Mudlarking, Dead Horse Beach."

I don't know if it is this pandemic stuff, or if this would have happened anyway, but I am in a major purging mood.

It is no secret that decluttering can help bring more energy to life. The thing is, a lot of time I don't have the energy to put into purging. Or I feel stalled for some reason.

But nothing is the same now. I've been having a feeling for a while that I want to rid myself of all kinds of old teaching stuff. I have to admit I rarely use but maybe 2% of it. Letting it go feels like a way to advance as a teacher -- to seek out the new, to not rely too much on the past.  Good teaching practices, of course. Yet, opening up a path to the new.

The same goes for my personal life. I got started last week by weeding out a ton of cups, mugs, and other non-used items in our kitchen cabinet. It felt great. It gave me energy to start thinking about the next step.

I have two things to focus on: reducing my books and getting them into more defined shelving,  and clearing out my nearly 30 years of journals.

The journal project was started in 2015, but soon fell apart. It took a great deal out of me to go through the journals, culling out the documented parts of my life I wanted to keep. I also store various letters and other items in my journal notebook pockets that need to be looked at and decided upon. It takes a lot of time.

I have always known I couldn't just toss these things. I have a way of saving them in binders, in plastic sleeves. It's a good approach, as I don't feel I'm "throwing my life away."

Today is the day to start this project in earnest, and keep going to see it through until the end.

So when I read January O'Neill's poem on mudlarking, and realized it was about searching through the mud for shells, sea glass, little bits of bone, and other items, I realized it is the perfect word for my project. I admit, I had to look this word up because I had never heard it before.

This is part of the little poem I wrote today:

I feel an incredible shift happening

as I'm willingly leaving the past behind.

Mudlarking will be the name of my

current project. Much like January

in her poem, I'll be digging for the 

most precious fragments 

that have represented my life

for the past nearly 30 years.

I feel a fountain of energy in my 

heart area as I think of this.

The discovery. The release.

The careful curation.

So, Mudlarking it is!