I simply love this poem.

In November 2018 I made the decision to move back home to the Shire in England where I was born. I hugely missed my dad and family, I’d been away for many years and decided, enough, I want to go home. In March 2019, I gave up my super intense and busy career in HR and sold my 4 bedroom house to move back to my dads. During this move, which was a 300 mile haul from Wales to England, I r.e.a.l.l.y shocked myself with the sheer amount of ‘stuff’ I had accumulated over the years. On top of this was the realisation of how much of it I just didn’t need, use, or even remember purchasing. I suddenly felt the stress of owning so many things. This ‘stuff’ was going to make my move hugely more difficult than it needed to be. I wasn’t in time to rid myself of things prior to the house sale going through, and thanks to good old dad with his big van, and many long trips to Wales, he helped me move everything that I owned.

Once I was back, my dad’s double garage, conservatory, lounge and greenhouse were filled, crushed top to bottom, with my belongings. I’d basically taken over his home. On top of this, I’d purchased a static caravan, now known as Little Wing, which was fenced off and used as a place for my dogs to freely run around. This was parked in our family field behind dad’s house and was also filled up and used for storage. I delved into decluttering and freeing myself from all these things, one by one, the only difference being (to the poem) was I didn’t burn it all; I either sold it or gave it to charity.

As this process unfolded, I started to realise that the weight on my shoulders, which had been there for many years, was lightening. I was ready to start the new mindset of a stress-free, minimalistic life. The decision to sell my house led me to become engrossed in a soulful, natural, appreciative life, more so than I ever have before. This was the beginning of my divorce from the hypnotic state of consumerism I had, over the years, become a part of. I have to say, ridding myself of possessions, which I’m still in the process of doing, letting more and more things go, has opened me up to a life free of so much heaviness, strengthening my connection to mother earth.

So, whilst delving into different interesting sources on the internet and discovering other people that have experienced this life changing decision, I came across this beautiful poem titled ‘Storage’ by Mary Oliver. I instantly felt connected to it.
The final line melts my heart into realisation every time I read it, as well as every time I look up into the sky:

‘For the birds who own nothing – the reason they can fly’

Written by Jules