Things are a distraction. They diffuse focus. Sell, give away, or trash as many things as needed to give yourself focus.
We have a shelf of cookbooks in the kitchen. Maybe one of them is used once a year. By keeping them, unused, we are lying to ourselves. We are telling ourselves that these books are important—when they are not. We are telling ourselves that we are cooks experimenting with new creations—when we are not.
These unused books reveal other lies we are telling ourselves, too. They present a facade to visitors: we are gourmands, skilled in the kitchen. I’m sure I could think of other lies we are telling ourselves by keeping the cookbooks. I will stop here.
Throw the cookbooks in the trash or donate them to Goodwill. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we tell ourselves the truth about ourselves. And the act of tossing books in the garbage will be an self-affirmation of who we are.
I am using “we” here because there are two of us in the house.
Practicing what I preach, I threw away a bag of buckwheat flour that has been sitting, unused, for about a year. Go me. I’m not going to toss out cookbooks until I get my wife’s buy-in.