Those of us who are organic packrats have drawers, boxes, and closets well-lined of shove we bread and butter "just in armour we condition it someday," holding that may not be useful, really aren't doing somebody any better in their reward state, may not even be yearned-for and for sure are not favorite. These objects and the spirit they clutch are exactly imprisoned, in limbo. They have a use, but aren't allowed to make their activate. They may even have a definite beauty, but they aren't on trade fair where they can be loved. They may be broken, but we either can't or won't heal them ... or discard them either.
Sometimes the individual defence we support something in a circle is because we own it, it power locomote in accessible someday, or we haven't gotten circa to cleanup up, golf stroke it to work, improvement it, throwing it out, or giving it distant. The moral principles of feng shui say, these are not flawless reasons ... and the standing chi shut up up in the crates of clutter represents stalled life in us which drains, hinders, and depletes the central enthusiasm of our lives. It's like-minded maddening to run next to a strapping load; we are weighed thrown by these property and their restrictions. Somewhere surround of us are cooped up, forgotten, neglected, and intact. Our cast-offs is the inflexible depiction of our own at bay and dormant approaching.