One of my favorite children’s books is Alexander and The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by JUDITH VOIRST. Alexander is having an awful time with chewing gum, and shoes and riding in cars. To him the only way to fix it is to move to Australia.  To him, everything is better  in Australia. 

Alex doesn’t know about the bugs and the snakes and the accents. He can only see that where he is right now is rifled with frustrations and it doesn’t seem like it will ever end. 

Imagine buying a house, with two living rooms and a dining room.  A breakfast nook and five bedrooms, a big back yard with a deck.  You are so excited about your new big house, so you go to the store and you start buying furniture to fill the house.  In the big showroom, that table seems perfect, those couches will be amazing, and those barstools may be a little bulky, but they will be just fine.  

And the furniture is delivered, and everything is set up and you’re so proud of your house, it looks like a home finally.  

Some time passes and you realize that the reason the table seemed perfect was because in that big huge showroom, it felt small. Maybe your dining room wasn’t as big as you thought.  Perhaps it Was a miscalculation? Perhaps you should have measured the situation before making a decision. 

And those couches. Maybe you didn’t need two of them.  Now that they you have to constantly walk around them, it feels like walking around a problem. Maybe you made that decision because you were being greedy. 

And those bulky barstools.  They are so heavy to move back and forth, constantly weighing you down.  Those beautiful seats that were meant to be a respite, are now just a stresser that you bang your knee on every single time you walk by. 

So you maneuver threw these walls, and this house that become a home but now feels so uncomfortable because of all of you.  All of these poorly calculated choices you made for your life lead you up to making just one more. And this one feels like life or death: 

1. Leave the furniture, and just keep bumping into it causing bruises all over your legs and frustrations at every turn. 

2. Sit, ironically in the furniture that causes you pain, and think about why you bought the furniture. Stare at it from every angle, thinking about the feelings you had about the furniture store, the relationship you had with your salesman.  Analyze and process every decision you could have made, and should have made and would have made if only.  Spend months mad and upset at yourself for making terrible decisions. Remember the cost, and beat yourself up and feel obligated to keep it all because of the shame you feel for not picking the right furniture.  Talk about how much you hate it with everyone, and how angry you are at yourself, and the furniture salesman for not guiding you on a better path.  Let this cycle continue until you paint a wall to try and make it feel better. 

 3. Move to Australia or any place else.  These walls are closing in, and moving will help. Until you realize  you have to either pack it up and take it with you or sell it.  

4. Get rid of it. You already know it’s too big and takes up too much space. It is what it is, it has to go. 

We both know that this isn’t about the furniture.  This is about the heavy, terrible decisions you carry around with you every single day. The ones that cause shame and overwhelming guilt.  The choices that burden you, and cause the knot in your chest to form every single time you think about what you did, or didn’t do. When talking about a couch, if it doesn’t fit, get rid of it. When we are talking about the feelings of failing, or not being enough we tend to think we are obligated to mull of it, think about it and punish ourselves into eternity especially if we know that our decisions affected others. 

Is it okay to look at the table, or the decision we made two years ago, accept it, own it, learn from at and move on?  Can we apologize to who we hurt, pay the cost, a say, it is what it is, it has to go? 

Why shouldn’t we? What makes us believe that we aren’t allowed to be human and make mistakes? Isn’t that what life is? One mistake, with at least ten lessons, with every step? But the steps have to move us forward, but not necessarily move us to Australia. 

By the power vested in me, by me, I give you permission to stop bumping into furniture. I give you permission to not overthink it all, and to stay put.  I give you permission to ask for forgiveness, to forgive yourself and to move on. These heavy, bulky things that weigh us down are robbing you of a home where you can rest and create memories. 

You no longer have to hold onto any of it.  Get rid of the furniture. It’s too big for your house.