A few years ago I had a house fire. Lots of smoke damage. About 700 books went to the tip. A lifetime's collection. Which was a bit of a test.
Last month two hard drives failed and I lost thousands of photos. I have low resolution copies but the RAW files have gone. Another little test, which I may have passed, because, a bit like the books, I don't seem to mind that much.
Maybe it's to do with getting old. We all seem to gather and heap up possessions during our lives. Security blankets. Ways of telling ourselves and others who we are. As our lives change, things come and go with the tide. Some also change, some stay the same. Then, as we get old, we find ourselves surrounded by ornaments, clothes we'll never wear, fancy cutlery, a dinner service bought to impress people we hardly remember. All things washed up along the tideline.
Some people treasure them. A picture of their life. Others, like me, don't want the clutter and the dusting. So things start to go. By this time after all, I know who I am. But sometimes there is a bit of an upheaval. A crisis. Some things survive it but others are lost. Things I wouldn't have chosen to part from. And strangely I find that I don't really mind. I can start again.
The house is full of books once more. Old favourites have reappeared. My reading has got more adventurous and changed for the better. I now have a Kindle.
The same thing will happen with the photographs. Lots of places to revisit. To look at with fresh eyes. Branch out in new directions. And maybe take the hint to look at my possessions again. Just how many of them do I really need ? I can't take them with me so best not be too attached. Part from them without pain. Leave an uncluttered tideline with hopefully a few treasures.