Showing posts with label Clutter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clutter. Show all posts

Monday, November 10, 2014

Confessions of a Clutter Junkie

Part One: The Junk Attacks

Last month, I moved out of a house that I'd been living in for over fifteen years. The change has been a welcome one: our old place was a one-bathroom, two-bedroom-plus-oversized-closet house which we outgrew years ago. In our new place, we not only have an abundance of bathrooms, but enough elbow room that I can turn in a complete circle without either bumping into a pile of stuff, or stepping on a cat.

That's the good part.

The not-so-good part is this: I have. A lot. Of junk. A lot.

The "junk" has been collected with the best of intentions: it's mostly books, dvds, and family treasures. But best intentions or not, that stuff takes up space. And gathers dust. And sometimes gets knocked over when you're rushing around trying to get ready for work in the morning.

Part Two: The Fantasies Form

So, thinking myself extraordinarily clever and efficient, I decided that instead of trying to move everything, we would donate a lot of our excess. But then the obvious truth smacked me in the face like a dust mop: just because I wasn't taking something to the new house didn't mean it didn't have to be packed. Like it or not, I couldn't just use a bulldozer to shovel it all into a pile, then put two fingers into my mouth and whistle for the Salvation Army to come pick it up (although the bulldozer was a frequent fantasy).

(Speaking of fantasies, I also invented a fantasy device which is basically a giant vacuum tube that would have allowed me to press a button and all my stuff would be sucked out of the old house, into the new. There are a few mechanical issues to be worked out, but as soon as technology catches up I'm sure it'll be a big hit.)

During our Great Pack-Up, I often told my family that we were going to become minimalists. "From now on," I'd say, "we're not going to own any more possessions than we can carry on our backs!" This idea didn't go over well, of course. And since I'm not up to carrying a sofa and flat-screen TV on my back, even I had to admit it wasn't really a practical plan.

Part Three: The Truth Becomes Unavoidable

So, the bulldozer was out, and living out of a backpack wasn't looking too workable (where would we have put the catboxes?). Although our former residence was small, the sheer volume of our possessions was astounding, and until it was time to move, I had allowed myself to just keep accumulating. Even now, after the bulk of the move is done, I own too many things that I don't use. That kind of abundance doesn't make me feel happy or prosperous; it just makes me feel exhausted, and a little sad.

Then, a few weeks ago, I read Marjanna's post here on the R8, The Burdens (and Vintage Kitchenware) We Carry that Aren't Our Own, and I realized that I'm not alone. Marjanna has been dealing with a similar challenge: helping her mother move from a house to an apartment. And packing her mom's kitchen, with its collection of memorabilia disguised as labor-saving devices, had been particularly difficult.

It seems that living with an overabundance of Stuff has become a common affliction. Kitchenware, clothes, electronic devices... so many of us have Too Much Stuff Syndrome. But the good thing about having a common affliction is that there are usually many people who are looking for a cure. I went in search of a few of those who have found a way to assuage the pain of possession. As usual, the Internet held all the answers.

Part Four: The Answers Begin to Take Shape

Online, I found three resources which have been particularly helpful:

The Minimalists - The very popular blog of two thirty-something guys from Ohio who found balance in their lives by reducing their possessions and hopping off the corporate track. I perused their blog for information and also listened to their audiobook. My biggest takeaway from the book was this realization: The things I own do not define who I am.

The 100 Thing Challenge by Dave Bruno - I'm always attracted to "journey stories": tales of people who have made a dramatic change in their lives and have come out better on the other side. This book is the story of a man who reduced his personal items down to 100 things, and lived that way for a year. Biggest takeaway from this book? Sometimes we buy things as a substitute for doing things. In my case, this would include an embarrassing number of blank journals. Those empty pages made me feel like a writer, because they "reminded" me of all the words I could write in them... but then never did. Weird, I know, but that's how I ended up being a clutter junkie.

Tiny - This is a documentary which I actually watched on Netflix some time ago. Although the description reads, "A young couple with no construction experience attempts to build a tiny house in this documentary that contemplates shifting American values," the thing I loved most about it was the pretty pictures: seeing how a variety of people had created big, beautiful lives for themselves out of tiny little homes. From this documentary, I took away the knowledge that if you want to live large, sometimes you have to build small.

Part Five: The Next Step Develops

Although I'm not quite prepared to live with only 100 things, or in a 100-square-foot home, I am more than ready to simplify my life, and that includes whittling down what I own to the things I need and love most. I'll let you know how it goes over the next year or so. In the meantime, do you have any tips for me, or any stories to share about having too much stuff?

Sunday, October 19, 2014

The Burdens (and Vintage Kitchenware) We Carry that Aren't Our Own

Over the last several months, my siblings and I have been clearing out my mom's house, and getting mom settled into a new apartment. It has been an all-out effort by all of us. Mom was actually very quick to decide what to take with her to the new flat. Until we came to the kitchen.  Drawer after drawer, mom needed it. From the wacky looking spatula thingy that is actually an egg white beater to the Tupperware Jell-o mold with interchangeable centers - Christmas tree, heart, Easter chick, St Patrick's Day shamrock, and I can't remember the July Fourth center.  She actually had two sets of the Tupperware.
No. I'm serious. Two sets.
Mom tells me, as she mournfully watches me discard 3 of her potato peelers (at least one of which is from the 60s and so dull I doubt it could shave butter let alone a cucumber), that she always wanted a complete kitchen because her mother "never had one". Besides, she insists, her three 2-quart saucepans, as well as her 4-quart, 1-quart, and 6-quart, are all Good Pans. Same with her frying pans, saucier, and Corning Ware casseroles.  She has a drawer full of strainers, another of measuring cups, and another drawer with potholders from when she moved into the Wehawken Road house. In 1965. The orange, brown and autumn gold are back in style, so no point changing those out.
Of course, every time I drove away from her house, I said, "I'm going straight home and throw crap out." Then parked my car, set down a box that held the egg-white beater and a pie dish, and turned on the TV. Because the emotions of disbanding my mom's house is exhausting. So exhausting that I also have one set of the Tupperware Jell-O molds because it was hidden in the cake carrier I brought home with me. The cake carrier reminded me of Wednesday Night church suppers and family birthday parties. We didn't have Facebook, we had every item in mom's kitchen to remind us of life events. The harvest gold fondu pot. The cookie sheets. The cheeseboard.
Yeah. It will come as no surprize that I have trouble separating the gift from the giver or the item from the event.  And every trip that I make to the thrift store feels like a victory. (and I have to do it quickly or the item gets piled up in the corner, because I might need it/sell it/gift it).A friend told me that my father's passions (his books, tools, musical instruments) didn't have to become mine, and nor does my mother's need to have a complete kitchen. Because, let's be honest, if I ever have to beat egg whites, do you seriously think I'll be doing that by hand? 

Do you have a difficult time de-cluttering or letting go of clutter? Or are you one of those who can live a Spartan existence where too many possessions would be more than 20 items of clothing, a chair, a bed, a toothbrush and a TV? If that's the case, tell me your secret? Because you much have superpowers.