I found myself standing in front of my bookshelf the other day, asking a question that tugged gently at my heart:

“Why is it so hard to get rid of books I’ll probably never read again?”

Not just the novels I’ve already read or the textbooks I haven’t touched in years—but even the ones I never opened. The ones that were meant for a version of me that doesn’t exist anymore.

And then it hit me.

Books are more than books.

They are memories.

They are identities.

They are intentions.

They are moments I once lived, beliefs I once held, and hopes I once dreamed.

Each book I own tells a story—even if I never read a single word.

💭 The Identity We Wrap in Pages

Some of my books came with me through college. Some followed me through breakups and healing. Some whispered promises of transformation when I didn’t know who I was becoming.

Even my old textbooks hold meaning. They represent the long hours, the growth, the knowledge I earned. They helped shape the degree I now hold. And even if I ever choose to teach again, I know in my heart that updated editions will be there when that day comes. I don’t need to cling to these ones.

Because now, I carry that knowledge within me.

✨ I Realized I Don’t Have to Keep the Object to Keep the Lesson

Some books offered healing in a moment I needed it most. Some were gifts I clung to out of guilt or attachment. Others… I never even read. And you know what? That’s okay.

If I haven’t opened them by now, they’re not calling me for a reason.

Today, I feel ready to release them. To say, “Thank you for what you offered, even if it was just the version of me who needed to buy you.”

🌿 Letting Go Isn’t Losing — It’s Honoring

I’ll be keeping a few sacred favorites.

But most of them?

They’re being let go with love.

Some will go to my residents at work.

Some will go to friends and family.

Some to the local library.

And some—especially the overly worn or outdated textbooks—will be recycled.

And with every book I let go of, I remind myself:

I am not losing a part of myself.

I am releasing the weight of who I no longer need to be.

🌬️ I carry what they gave me — the rest can be set free.

This is part of my bigger journey right now. I’m decluttering my home, preparing for camper life, simplifying everything—from my closet to my kitchen to the stories on my shelves.

And it feels like a homecoming.

Not to a place, but to a peace within.

🕊️ Quote of the Week:

“You don’t have to carry everything to honor where you’ve been.” — CM

📝 Journal Prompt:

What books (or items) in your life represent a version of you that you’ve already outgrown? What would it feel like to thank them—and release them?

🌱 Challenge:

Pick one shelf. Just one.

Sort through it with love, not pressure.

Keep what feels like truth today, not what once did.

Release the rest to someone who may need it now more than you do.

If this moved you, share it with a fellow soul who’s navigating their own season of release.

Let them know: It’s okay to let go. You are not leaving behind your wisdom. You are simply choosing space for who you’re becoming.

Always,

Casandra