Throughout most of my life I’ve been told “get rid of it! If you haven’t used it in the last six months, ditch it!” But I never have been much of a declutterer.

Today I sit here on my sofa experiencing an unprecedented event, a 'lockdown’ on a global scale that nobody could have predicted, and I thank the Lord above for my stubborn behaviour.

As it turned out, I did not give most of my books away. My bookcases are still lining my walls, crammed with a myriad of subjects. Books that are helping me to traverse these dark times. Books that comfort, distract and stimulate my mind on these endless afternoons. Old hardbacks that never go ‘offline’ and feel wonderful to hold.

As we rummage around in our loft, we delight in some of these forgotten items that seem strange to us now. They represent fragments of our life journeys and trigger fascinating conversations. My daughter sits there enchanted by her old collection of Pokemon cards and tells me all about these magical creatures and which ones were her favourites. Next, she pulls out an "ultra-glamorous" Bratz doll from over a decade ago. From the look on her face, she feels overjoyed at rediscovering her, then suddenly bursts into song “You’ve got that Brattitide! It’s just an attitude!” in an American accent!

I have kept my journal from my mid-twenties and that turquoise and gold trimmed sari that my husband brought back from India. I have kept that 10-year old fuchsia pink flip RAZR V3 phone and those glossy American Yoga magazines from the noughties.

Even when I look at photos of old school frenemies or exes, I can understand my life journey better, like a map of where I’ve been. The two boxes filled with old photos offer me a snapshot of my personal timeline. We have all travelled to places that have captured our imaginations; we have all experienced many chapters in our lives. We have all been defined by good times and bad that have led us to this point and made us who we are today.

These old black and white 1960s photos of my parents in their twenties and my brother as a schoolboy trigger “the translucent alabaster of ‘my’ memories" - Marcel Proust. We have a personal history and maybe need to honour that. I am not a trainee Buddhist and do not feel obliged to let go of almost everything I possess. I am just an individual defined by my previous outer life experiences and personal inner voyages.

Of course, not all possessions have meaning and Marie Kondo, world famous organising consultant, is undoubtedly a modern hero of our time; and yet after this lock down, I sense that we might have a different view about flippantly discarding our personal hidden treasures and there may be a shift in the way we see our possessions. Marie Kondo tells us “The space in which we live should be for the person we are becoming now, not for the person we were in the past.” But isn’t the person we were and the person we are becoming mutually and deeply connected?

Creating a flow into that ‘home space’ and prioritising which possessions we decide to keep is a noble endeavour and I get it. Of course, we need to get the balance right between honouring our past and hoarding objects that we are hopelessly attached to. “If it doesn’t spark joy, ditch it.” Kondo advises. I’m not sure actually, as it still may ‘spark’ other meaningful emotions.

I dream of having a super tidy study, but I have to agree with Einstein that "If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?" The implication is that a little bit of chaos frequently jump starts creative ideas.

Maybe I am mistaken, but decluttering is not just about ruthlessly shedding ‘personal baggage’ or ‘sentimental stuff’ but about experiencing positive memories and enjoying our valued possessions and what they personally represent for us. As we emerge from this lock down, it may dawn on us that as Proust said “the voyage of discovery consists, not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes”.