There comes a time in everyone’s life when we must take stock in our lives. Where we wake up one morning and say “Oh my god. My life is shit.” From there we can take one of two paths. We can either roll over and pull the covers up over our heads and wallow in self pity or we can throw the covers off and do something about it. I’ve chosen the latter.

I woke up this morning and realized there were certain things in my life I didn’t like being here. Things…people…thoughts. It’s all got to go and I have my Swiffer in hand to do some house cleaning!

First thing’s first. The physical clutter. Now I am not near as much of a pack rat as some people out there, but I do have my tendencies. Why is all of this stuff here? It’s just keeping ME cluttered. External reflects internal. Keeping some of this stuff is like keeping me in a safe bubble. It’s high time to be vulnerable.

Another aspect of our lives that we tend to inflate and misconstrue is friendship. Why do we feel the need to surround ourselves with “friends” we don’t really know? Why do we insist on surrounding ourselves with “friends” who do nothing but hurt us? Facebook has exacerbated the thinking. For some reason we need to be able to say “I have 373 friends”. Do you REALLY? What do you know about all of those people? What do they know about you? Do all of those people comment to your status? Those that DO comment to your status…what do THEY know about you?

We feel the need to surround ourselves with people (not friends) that we call friends to fill some emptiness inside ourselves. To make ourselves appear more desirable, more likable. Somehow, as a society, we’ve gotten to a point where we judge our worth by the amount of friends we have…the amount of followers….This won’t change unless we sit with ourselves. Quiet. Learn to like ourselves so we don’t have to surround ourselves with inconsequential people to fill that void.

I am happy with myself. Finally happy enough with myself to recognize this void filling pattern. It hasn’t made me any happier. The people who are important in my life are the one’s who make me happy to know and have in my life. Those who know who I am and are still here. What’s the point of keeping things from those close to us? How can we call them a friend if they don’t who we are?