I remember sitting there with a stack of them in my hands, and I just paused. I didn't know who these people were. No names, no dates, just faces. And I had this thought, if I throw these away, does anyone remember them anymore? It felt like I was holding the last proof that these people existed, and if I let them go, it was like their story just ended. That was a hard moment because it felt like I was throwing away someone's life.
Welcome to RenewHer. A podcast for women over 50 ready to reignite their energy and explore what's next. I'm Genell Lemley, brain fitness coach. Here you'll hear real stories from women taking on new challenges after 50. Along with brain health tips to boost focus, energy, and the mindset to move forward with confidence.
Let's dive into today's episode. Welcome back to the RenewHer Podcast. This week we're talking about spring cleaning and how letting go of what no longer serves you can create space not just in your home, but in your mind and your life.
I have been knee deep in boxes the past few weeks, and not just boxes of stuff. Boxes of memories. We have two storage areas in our house. Yes, two. And I finally decided it's time. Time to go through everything and see if I can condense it all into one space. This isn't my first time doing this. It's probably my third purge since I got married eight years ago. But this one felt different because this time I wasn't just sorting through things, I was sorting through lives.
There were boxes from my late husband's parents, his aunt and uncle, my deceased parents, and, of course, from my late husband himself. And inside those boxes. Photos, letters, yearbooks, baby blankets, baby clothes, dry corsages, clothes, little mementos from childhood through adulthood. Pieces of lives that were lived fully and are no longer here.
And I found myself stuck in this tension that I think a lot of us may feel, but don't always talk about. How do you throw away something that clearly meant something to someone else who is no longer with you? There were so many photos, faces I didn't recognize. People I couldn't name. Moments frozen in time with no one left to tell their story.
I kept thinking, am I throwing away someone's life? Even saying that out loud now feels heavy, and yet these boxes have been sitting here for over 17 years. No one has come looking for them. No one is asking about them. And now somehow, I'm the one holding all of it. And it's not just so-called things.They're more than that.
I have my mother-in-law's wedding dress, a formal from college letters. She and my father-in-law wrote back and forth, especially when he was in the Navy. I mean, how do you get rid of something like that? That's not just paper, that's love. That's history.
And then there's my own family. My mom wasn't a big saver of her own things, but she saved everything from my childhood, worksheets, tests, stories, art projects. I think every single paper I brought home during elementary school, she kept. And my dad, he was the one who held onto his high school and college memorabilia. He was an athlete, and there are so many pieces of that chapter of his life.
And then my husband, I've gone through his things before and reduced them, but I still have a few boxes, letters we wrote to each other when I studied abroad. His childhood toys, books, his Cub Scout uniform, clothes of his I just couldn't part with. And even now, I find myself asking, how much do I keep?
Because every item holds a memory, and every memory holds emotion, and yet there's also the reality of space, of life moving forward, of not wanting to feel weighed down by things. And there were a few moments during this process that really, I guess you could say, stopped me in my tracks. I came across schoolbooks from the mid to late 1800s, children's reading books that had been clearly passed down through generations.
And then there were photos from the late 1800s and even early 1900s. I remember sitting there with a stack of them in my hands, and I just paused. I didn't know who these people were. No names, no dates, just faces, and I had this thought. If I throw these away, does anyone remember them anymore? It felt like I was holding the last proof that these people existed, and if I let them go, it was like their story just ended. That was a hard moment because it felt like I was throwing away someone's life.
But then I had to step back and ask myself a different question. What can I realistically do with these?
My late husband and I didn't have children. His brother didn't marry or have children. His aunt and uncle didn't either. And the truth is, when I'm gone, there's no one to go through those photos. No one who would recognize these faces or feel any connection to them, and as hard as that was to accept, it also gave me clarity.
It helped me realize that holding onto them wasn't preserving their story. It was just storing it. And when I was able to look at it that way, it allowed me to release them not without emotion, but without that same weight.
And I have to say, it was actually kind of fascinating to go through those old textbooks and children's books, a glimpse into a completely different time, but they served their purpose, and now it was time to let them go.
There were other things that felt just as hard, but in a different way. I came across my late husband's Cub Scout uniform, memorabilia from Little League, different organizations he was part of growing up. And even though I didn't know him during those years, it was still part of his life, which made it feel like it was part of mine. And I really struggled with the idea of just throwing those things away.
But then my sister suggested something I hadn't even thought of. She said, “Why don't you check with the Bloomington Historical Society?” That's the city he and I grew up in. And it turns out they welcome items like this. Things that reflect what life was like years ago or “back then.” I had to smile a little at that “back then,” because in my mind it doesn't feel that long ago, but we're talking over 50 years ago.
I also found reel-to-reel videos of high school football games my husband played in from the late seventies. And instead of throwing them away, I plan to donate them to the historical society. And that shifted everything for me because I wasn't getting rid of these memories; I was passing them on, letting them live somewhere where they might spark a memory for someone else or give someone a glimpse into what life looked like back then.
And in a way, it felt like he was still living on, just in a different form. And that brought a sense of peace. I wasn't expecting.
And somewhere in the middle of all this, something interesting started to happen. As I began to clear out some of the boxes, over 20 boxes, actually, I cleared out from one room. I started to feel lighter. Not just physically in the space around me, but mentally. I felt less stressed, more clear, more accomplished, almost like I could breathe a little deeper. And it made me stop and think. What is actually happening here? Why does clearing out physical clutter have such a powerful impact on how we feel mentally and emotionally?
And this is where the brain piece comes in, because whether we realize it or not, our brain is constantly scanning our environment. Every pile, every box, every, “I'll deal with that later” item. It's all being registered. Even if we're not consciously thinking about it, our brains are. Clutter creates what we call cognitive load.
It's like having too many tabs open in your brain at once. Every unfinished decision, what to keep, what to toss, what to deal with later takes up mental energy. And your brain loves decisions until it has too many of them. That's what we call decision fatigue. And when that energy is constantly being pulled in different directions, it can lead to feelings of overwhelm, stress, and even fatigue.
There's also something else happening. When your environment feels unfinished, your brain treats it like a task that's still open. So even when you're not actively thinking about it, part of your brain is still working on it. It's this constant low-level stress loop running in the background. And over time, that adds up.
So, when you start clearing things out, you're not just organizing your home, you're actually giving your brain relief. You're closing those open loops. You're reducing that background noise that you didn't even realize was there. And that's exactly what I started to feel. Less noise. More space. More clarity.
And there's another layer to this, too, because going through these boxes wasn't just about clutter; it was about memories. And our brain is deeply wired to connect memory and emotion. The hippocampus, your memory center, and the amygdala, your emotional center, work very closely together. So, every photo, every letter, every piece of clothing, it's tied to a moment, a feeling, a person.
And when you revisit those things, your brain brings that emotion right back to the surface, which is why this process can feel so heavy at times. You're not just sorting objects, you're re-experiencing parts of your life.
There's also something really powerful that happens here because, as I was going through everything, I found myself remembering things. I had completely forgotten moments that made me smile, moments that made me cry, stories I hadn't thought about in years. Engaging with those memories, reflecting, making meaning, that keeps your brain active and flexible. It strengthens neural connections and helps you stay mentally engaged. So even though this process can feel emotional, it's also incredibly stimulating for the brain in a positive way.
And then there's the act of letting go, which I'll be honest, might be the hardest part because letting go can feel like losing something. But what I started to realize is it's not about losing the memory, it's about choosing what to carry forward. What do I truly value? What matters most to me now? What feels meaningful to keep versus what feels like an obligation?
Because sometimes we're not holding onto things out of love, we're holding onto them out of guilt, or responsibility, or fear that letting go means forgetting. But your brain doesn't work that way. Memories aren't stored in the objects, they're stored in you. And when you intentionally choose what to keep, you're actually strengthening your prefrontal cortex, the part of your brain responsible for decision making, clarity, and intention.
You're training your brain to focus on what matters most, and maybe the biggest shift of all is how your body starts to respond, because when your environment feels calmer. Your nervous system responds. You feel it, less tension, less overwhelm, more ease. Your brain shifts from chaos to control, and that's incredibly calming to your nervous system.
It's no longer in that constant state of alert. It can settle. And that's exactly what I've been feeling as I've been working through this. A sense of calm. A sense of control. A sense of space. And I'll tell you, there's also something incredibly satisfying about finishing something like this, that feeling of accomplishment.
That's your brain releasing dopamine. It's your brain saying, yes, this mattered. This is progress. And for many women, that feeling has been missing. They're busy, they're successful, they're doing all the things, but they don't always feel that sense of completion. Something as simple as tackling a space in your home can actually bring that back, which is pretty powerful when you think about it.
And what's interesting is now that I've started, I see other areas differently. My office is next. If I'm honest. I've been avoiding it. And I'm guessing there's something in your life that feels like that, too. Now, I'm not saying you need to go clean out 20 boxes in your storage room, but I do want to gently ask you, are there areas in your life, your home, your office, your digital space, that are quietly creating stress for you, that you've been avoiding putting off, telling yourself you'll get to someday?
What would it feel like to start small? One drawer, one box, one shelf? Not with the goal of getting it all done, but with the intention of creating a little more space, a little more clarity, a little more calm, and maybe even reconnecting with parts of your life you haven't thought about in a while.
Because this isn't just about cleaning, it's about renewing. Letting go of what no longer serves you, keeping what truly matters, and creating an environment that supports the version of you you're stepping into next. So, if you've been feeling that pull to do some spring cleaning, this is your gentle encouragement, not because you should, but because your brain and your life might feel a whole lot lighter on the other side.
And maybe the question isn't, how do I get rid of this? Maybe it's what do I want to carry forward? I'd love for you to think about that as you move through your week, and if something comes to mind, a space, a drawer, a box, start there. One small step, because just like anything else, it starts with one decision.
Your brain will thank you for it.
Thank you for joining me for this episode of Renew Her. If today's conversation sparks something in you, don't let it fade. Take even a small step toward what's next. If you've found value in what you heard, please subscribe. Leave a review or share this podcast with a woman who's ready to take her next bold step.
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