This is a photo of my brother, who passed away suddenly almost 3 and a half years ago. Finding it in a forgotten box last weekend sparked joy. You never know how you’re going to feel when randomly encountering an artifact of a lost loved one. I, like most people, have been purging things from our home that do not “spark joy” because Marie Kondo told us to do so on Netflix and we have all obeyed with reckless abandon. As cult-y as I feel following the trend, it has been quite a liberating experience having gone through such emotional turmoil these last few years and finally being ready to say goodbye to certain things. During the cleaning process, I’ve been reminded of sorting through my brother’s belongings after he died. It was such an enormous emotional task that I wouldn’t wish on anyone and it brought up a lot of thoughts about what we choose to keep and why. I found myself getting to know my brother even more by sorting through his things. At times the process felt like an invasion of privacy, but it also felt like having a long conversation with him. “Why did this book matter so much to you?”, and the answer would be scrawled in the margins of the pages in his handwriting. I ended up keeping a lot of his scribbled in books along with a Canon AE1 film camera that I post my own photos from on here. I kept most of his vinyl records, some shirts, and pored over his hilarious reflections written primarily on post-it notes. He kept every card and letter he had ever received in his life. I do the exact same thing and they, along with pictures like these, are all laying among boxes in my garage waiting to be sorted. Going through my own belongings has felt like having another conversation, only now it’s with myself: high school Laura, college Laura, brand new to LA Laura, talking about the time I said goodbye to that friendship, that ex, or hello to that new job or to my husband. It’s been quite the journey and one that I highly recommend taking to anyone who seeks to reacquaint themselves with their possessions. Not to get morbid about it, but if I were to suddenly die too, at least my loved ones would know with certainty that everything I owned sparked joy.

itslauraspencerさん(@itslauraspencer)が投稿した動画 -

ローラ・スペンサーのインスタグラム(itslauraspencer) - 1月29日 02時06分


This is a photo of my brother, who passed away suddenly almost 3 and a half years ago. Finding it in a forgotten box last weekend sparked joy. You never know how you’re going to feel when randomly encountering an artifact of a lost loved one. I, like most people, have been purging things from our home that do not “spark joy” because Marie Kondo told us to do so on Netflix and we have all obeyed with reckless abandon. As cult-y as I feel following the trend, it has been quite a liberating experience having gone through such emotional turmoil these last few years and finally being ready to say goodbye to certain things. During the cleaning process, I’ve been reminded of sorting through my brother’s belongings after he died. It was such an enormous emotional task that I wouldn’t wish on anyone and it brought up a lot of thoughts about what we choose to keep and why. I found myself getting to know my brother even more by sorting through his things. At times the process felt like an invasion of privacy, but it also felt like having a long conversation with him. “Why did this book matter so much to you?”, and the answer would be scrawled in the margins of the pages in his handwriting. I ended up keeping a lot of his scribbled in books along with a Canon AE1 film camera that I post my own photos from on here. I kept most of his vinyl records, some shirts, and pored over his hilarious reflections written primarily on post-it notes. He kept every card and letter he had ever received in his life. I do the exact same thing and they, along with pictures like these, are all laying among boxes in my garage waiting to be sorted. Going through my own belongings has felt like having another conversation, only now it’s with myself: high school Laura, college Laura, brand new to LA Laura, talking about the time I said goodbye to that friendship, that ex, or hello to that new job or to my husband. It’s been quite the journey and one that I highly recommend taking to anyone who seeks to reacquaint themselves with their possessions. Not to get morbid about it, but if I were to suddenly die too, at least my loved ones would know with certainty that everything I owned sparked joy.


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