My basement is my own personal museum.

On display, I have hopes and dreams.  In boxes, I hide unfinished projects.  And a lot of other crap.  Stuff that I have no idea how it even came into my house.  What was I thinking?

The basement is the final frontier on a journey to tame the "stuff" wilderness.  Closets, drawers, under beds, even the shelves in the garage have all been cleaned and preened.  

It has taken me a year to go through the entire house, and I can no longer avoid it.  

Today I wrote about Grabbing 2018 by the . . . horns and clearing out the basement is necessary for clearing out the foundation of what is keeping me stuck.  I can't explain it very well, but I'm working on the metaphor and relationship between having a messy basement and having a messy life foundation.

Stick with me . . . I will make sense of it all.

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