Now that you’re all warmed up, start thinking about your mental throwaways. Add those to your list of clutter. (Yes, you can include them in the 50. You may even have more.) Throw out the regrets and the resentments, the resignation. Let go of the fear of failing or the fear of succeeding. Let go of the times when you came up a bit short. Let go of the voices that remind you of your so-called limitations. You know those voices. Just when you’re feeling pretty spunky and sure of yourself, just when you’ve created a bold new vision for your life, that voice from the past says, “Not so fast, lady. You can’t do that. You don’t have enough time. You don’t have enough money. And, anyway, ‘they’ll’ never let you.”

A word about the voices: Whenever you’re out for something big, whenever you take a chance, you’ll hear them. It’s inevitable. And it’s OK. In fact, I’d suggest that if you go for months without hearing any voices, you’re probably playing it too safe. You’re sitting in the stands when you should be strutting onto the field. So next time the voices start up, congratulate yourself and say, “I must be about to live up to my potential. Let ’er rip!”

A young woman I coach named Erica recently left a job where she had felt both underappreciated and degraded. Her boss ridiculed everything she did. Even Erica’s great ability to pitch to new clients irritated her boss, who accused her of setting their expectations too high. “Don’t get their hopes up. You’ll only disappoint them in the end,” her boss said. For her birthday, Erica’s boss gave her a plant. Even after she had left the job, the plant continued to thrive in Erica’s living room. Every time Erica looked at that plant, she got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Throw it out,” I said.

“But it’s a healthy plant,” Erica replied.

“No, it’s a toxic plant, at least for you. If you can’t toss it, give it away. But eliminate it from your life.”

She gave the plant to a neighbor, and immediately her spirits lifted. Never underestimate the power of letting go. Hey, sometimes it’s hard; those voices are pretty persistent. And it takes practice. Sometimes you have to wake up every morning and look at your list of mental throwaways and decide all over again to let them go. That’s why it’s handy to have a list.

A couple of years ago, I was on a radio talk show that broadcast from Seattle. We were talking about throwing out 50 things, and a guy named Jake, who lived on the outskirts of Seattle, called in and said, “Gail, I’ve decided what I’m going to let go of, and for me, it’s really big. I’ve decided to let go of my belief that no matter how hard I try or how hard I work, the future will never be as good as the past.”

Jake explained that he had been a senior executive in a large company at one time and now he was a struggling entrepreneur. He had also just broken off a long-term relationship and was really lonely.

“Can you do it?” I asked.

“I’m going to do it every day,” he said.

It was tough, but he did it. And it changed his whole life. Jake and I became e-mail pals, and he told me that for weeks he got up every morning and decided all over again to “throw out” his old belief. Eventually, because he was no longer constricted by his limited view of what was possible, all sorts of things opened up for him. Not only did he discover a way to expand his business but he’s also engaged to a woman he describes as the “love of his life.” “The past truly pales in comparison to the present,” he wrote me.

So what are you going to throw away? What are you going to let go of? Write it down; throw it out. You’re too strong to allow yourself to be shackled to the irrelevant debris of the past, either physical or mental. Spring is here, my friend, and it’s time to lighten up. And just for the record, you’d better do it now or oh brother!

Oh, one more story: A woman whom I coach came into my office the other day with what was supposed to be her list of throwaways but she didn’t want to talk about it.

“Come on,” I said. “What are you throwing out?”

Finally she said, “OK, OK, I’ll tell you. I went home after our last session and threw out the guy I’d lived with for 11 years. I finally realized he was the one who was holding me back and weighing me down. But, Gail,” she said, looking worried, “do I still have to throw out 49 more things?”

“No,” I replied. “That’ll do it.”