Decluttering
This started as a comment elsewhere, in response to a friend reminiscing about a hoarder in her life, celebrating her decluttering routine and marveling at how complicated many guided processes seem. Since this comes up pretty frequently, I thought I'd re-post my thoughts here.
Must be spring: there's a discussion on my FB that's pretty negative about the whole decluttering movement from the other direction (the privilege that it assumes).
When we moved four years ago, I went through everything in our old house. We got rid of seven carloads of stuff (mostly to my mother's church rummage sale, since it was conveniently timed--they sell what they can and then donate the rest to appropriate places and Mom worked the sale for enough years that I can trust they actually do that) plus about twenty boxes of books (sold a bunch of those, the rest to the sale).
Then we put 95% of our remaining goods into storage and lived in our staged house for what turned out to be two months. That was a strange and illuminating experience. Every counter had to be clear at all times--when we left the house, we put the dish drainer under the sink, in case the agent had a short-notice showing while we were out. My wardrobe became about a dozen items of clothing, plus underwear. Alice (who was five at the time) had one bin of toys that could go in her closet whenever she wasn't playing.
One of the things I learned was how things attract things. If there was nothing on a counter, it stayed clear. If someone left one thing out on the counter, rather than putting it away, within two days there would be a pile of stuff on that counter. And it turned out that I really like clear counters and the sense that everything has a place and can be in it when not in use.
When we moved to this house--a bigger space with better storage and now fewer things--we unpacked and I went through the process again, getting rid of another two or three carloads of stuff that I realized I hadn't missed in the slightest. We made the commitment to not accumulating more media--Alice still gets books, but Jason and I don't buy books or CDs or DVDs--it's amazing how much that single decision cut down on stuff piling up.
Alice is now the main accumulator, although the inflow has eased a bit as she's gotten older. It's still amazing how many free toys and hand-me-downs and presents flow in, not to mention papers and artwork and projects. We've stuck to the routine established when she was a baby (because the Mass. Mothers of Twins sale comes every six months and that was our major source of clothing and large toys until we moved here) of going through all of her stuff--clothes, toys, books--twice a year. We maintain a Too Small box in the interim and when it gets full I send what they'll take to ThredUp and hand the rest down to other families in our church. Lately I've gotten on two different FB groups that let me advertise free stuff to take away and that's been an easy way to redirect stuff I'm not saving for our rummage sale.
The urge to accumulate was also reined in by having to move my mom to assisted living in 2014. She had already done the bulk of the downsizing when they moved from a 4BR house to a 2BR condo seven years earlier. But there was still plenty of junk (at a conservative estimate there were 300,000 free mailing labels that had piled up in just those seven years) and treasures that none of her daughters wanted. It made me very aware that while it's fine to have in my life anything I want there, every item I keep is likely to someday be a burden for Alice to dispose of.
We don't achieve what anyone might call "minimalism," but we do manage to keep the clutter restricted to a few zones and clear those periodically. Entertaining so much helps--it gives us occasions for tidying. Now that we're in a post-show period (that's likely to last till the end of the year, at least, so it feels luxurious) I've been taking the time to work through the various drawers and closets. I know that having the time to do all this is a privilege, not to mention the confidence that if I do need something I've let go, I can afford to replace it. But I find that stuff makes noise in my head and I like living in peace and quiet.
Must be spring: there's a discussion on my FB that's pretty negative about the whole decluttering movement from the other direction (the privilege that it assumes).
When we moved four years ago, I went through everything in our old house. We got rid of seven carloads of stuff (mostly to my mother's church rummage sale, since it was conveniently timed--they sell what they can and then donate the rest to appropriate places and Mom worked the sale for enough years that I can trust they actually do that) plus about twenty boxes of books (sold a bunch of those, the rest to the sale).
Then we put 95% of our remaining goods into storage and lived in our staged house for what turned out to be two months. That was a strange and illuminating experience. Every counter had to be clear at all times--when we left the house, we put the dish drainer under the sink, in case the agent had a short-notice showing while we were out. My wardrobe became about a dozen items of clothing, plus underwear. Alice (who was five at the time) had one bin of toys that could go in her closet whenever she wasn't playing.
One of the things I learned was how things attract things. If there was nothing on a counter, it stayed clear. If someone left one thing out on the counter, rather than putting it away, within two days there would be a pile of stuff on that counter. And it turned out that I really like clear counters and the sense that everything has a place and can be in it when not in use.
When we moved to this house--a bigger space with better storage and now fewer things--we unpacked and I went through the process again, getting rid of another two or three carloads of stuff that I realized I hadn't missed in the slightest. We made the commitment to not accumulating more media--Alice still gets books, but Jason and I don't buy books or CDs or DVDs--it's amazing how much that single decision cut down on stuff piling up.
Alice is now the main accumulator, although the inflow has eased a bit as she's gotten older. It's still amazing how many free toys and hand-me-downs and presents flow in, not to mention papers and artwork and projects. We've stuck to the routine established when she was a baby (because the Mass. Mothers of Twins sale comes every six months and that was our major source of clothing and large toys until we moved here) of going through all of her stuff--clothes, toys, books--twice a year. We maintain a Too Small box in the interim and when it gets full I send what they'll take to ThredUp and hand the rest down to other families in our church. Lately I've gotten on two different FB groups that let me advertise free stuff to take away and that's been an easy way to redirect stuff I'm not saving for our rummage sale.
The urge to accumulate was also reined in by having to move my mom to assisted living in 2014. She had already done the bulk of the downsizing when they moved from a 4BR house to a 2BR condo seven years earlier. But there was still plenty of junk (at a conservative estimate there were 300,000 free mailing labels that had piled up in just those seven years) and treasures that none of her daughters wanted. It made me very aware that while it's fine to have in my life anything I want there, every item I keep is likely to someday be a burden for Alice to dispose of.
We don't achieve what anyone might call "minimalism," but we do manage to keep the clutter restricted to a few zones and clear those periodically. Entertaining so much helps--it gives us occasions for tidying. Now that we're in a post-show period (that's likely to last till the end of the year, at least, so it feels luxurious) I've been taking the time to work through the various drawers and closets. I know that having the time to do all this is a privilege, not to mention the confidence that if I do need something I've let go, I can afford to replace it. But I find that stuff makes noise in my head and I like living in peace and quiet.