βYou only lose what you cling to.β βThe Buddha
βCreate in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within meβ (Psalm 51:10, ESV).
π§ Hereβs a laid-back audio version of this weekβs column, with key insights and reflections in my own voice. Itβs not a formal word-for-word narrationβmore like a friendly chat.
Last week, we explored what happens when faith waversβwhen certainty dims, and we find ourselves in spiritual winter. This week, as April unfolds, we turn to a practice essential for renewal: creating space through purposeful release.
My digital declutter last weekend revealed a surprising truth. While organizing photos on my tablet, I discovered hundreds of forgotten images consuming not just storage but attention. As I sorted through memoriesβkeeping some, releasing othersβthe device felt lighter, and remarkably, so did I. What began as routine maintenance became an unexpected ritual of liberation.
This experience revealed something familiar: our inner lives often fill, bit by bit, with obligations and emotions until thereβs nowhere left to grow. We become like overfilled cups, unable to receive what might nourish us. The practice of deliberate clearing creates the capacity for what matters most.
Growing up in MontrΓ©al, spring unfurled slowly. The snow melted reluctantly, revealing winterβs leftovers strewn across driveways and yards. Cleaning felt like an act of faith: sweeping away the muck, hosing down the porch, knowing that beneath it all, the earth was stirring. The reward came in hints of green poking through the thawing soil, like tender asparagus spears braving the chill. That vibrant growth pushing through offered a quiet lesson: life persists, even after the harshest freeze.
Here in Florida, our version of spring cleaning has its own ritual: wiping down cars coated in yellow oak pollen, that stubborn dust that works its way into every crevice. It cakes the windshield, clings to patio furniture, and lingers in the air like powdered gold. Like other cleansing practices, this act creates a visible transformation, revealing the vehicleβs true color beneath the seasonal veil.
The rhythm of release and renewal runs through many wisdom traditions. Desert monks retreated to spartan cells to find clarity amid lifeβs complexities. The Japanese practice of osojiβdeep cleaning before the new yearβrecognizes how physical order creates space for spiritual renewal. Each approach acknowledges a universal truth: growth requires room to unfold.
This principle applies everywhere. In relationships, releasing old expectations allows for authentic connection. In creative work, imposing constraints often sparks innovation. Even our devices run more efficiently after closing unused applicationsβdigital clearing that mirrors our inner needs.
What deserves your precious space, and what can be released with gratitude? Perhaps itβs physical clutter in your home, digital noise on your devices, or emotional residue from past experiences. It could be an obligation that no longer aligns with your values or a habit that drains your energy.
This week, choose one area for gentle clearing. Start smallβunsubscribe from emails you never read, donate items gathering dust, or, more inwardly, name a belief youβve outgrown. Write it down. Then, ask what might take its place. Notice how letting go can shift your experience. When we make space, growth follows, and something new begins to stir.
Next week, weβll welcome the grace of rising again. Through faith, second chances, or sacred traditions, weβll explore how resurrection belongs to all of us.
This article appeared in FLORIDA TODAY as Spring cleaning for the soul | Spirituality Today