Barry and I were discussing the upcoming cleansing and decluttering we want to perform on our house, to open up our space for new and clear energy to enter into our lives and help us with our manifestation goals for the coming year. Then he mentioned that he wanted to get rid of the piano. "First," he said, "no one ever plays it anymore, and it just seems to be a magnet for all kinds of clutter. Being that it sits in the open floor plan, it contributes to a messy looking front room."
I started to tear up. I felt a lump swell in my throat and tears began streaming down my cheeks. I didn’t understand why I became so emotional about this, because the truth is that he was right. The piano no longer serves its function, and we really needed to have this discussion. But I couldn’t talk. All I could think about was the day I found the piano and how proud I was to be able to bring it home.
The piano was, for me, a sign of my independence. My first marriage ended in a divorce, and I went through a really tough time wondering if I would ever see my way through to financial comfort again. It took me over two years to feel like I was back on top and was ready to buy a house. My own house. But I had no furniture and the house was a one hundred year old home that just called for furniture to match its character. The first antiques dealer I stopped at had this beautiful piano sitting in the back corner. I played my own version of Chopsticks and was immediately hooked. I bought it and soon, my kids were plinking and plunking on the keys, filling our new home with the charming (and off-key) sounds of childhood piano lessons. It was something the entire family enjoyed, and that made my purchase even more special to me. Not only did the piano represent my independence as a single mom, but I was so proud and happy to be able to provide my children with this “frivolous” opportunity for enrichment.
That was nearly ten years ago and I never shared this story with Barry. It never seemed like I needed to. When I moved in with him, I came with my furniture, including the piano--and there was a perfect wall to place it against and that was that. Unfortunately, since I moved in here, the piano is very rarely played. My oldest two daughters have moved out of the house (they are 22 and 20), and no longer play the piano anyway. The other kids are interested in other instruments. Come to think of it, the piano has not been tuned since I moved in.
But I never once considered getting rid of the piano. It never crossed my mind.
When faced with this reality, it became clear to me that I had been hanging on to this piece of furniture for impractical reasons. I moved it across the country, and then again in three different houses over the last ten years. But I am just now re-examining my feelings associated with it. Yes, I am way too emotionally attached to this piece. I sure was not expecting the emotional response I experienced. As I map out my plan for de-cluttering the house, I need to reconsider how the piano contributes to the perpetual "virtual" mess we wish to do away with.
But for now, during the holidays, I will open the lid on the keys, and hopefully someone will be inspired to tickle the keys and fill the house with the sounds of holiday cheer.