I’ve been thinking a lot about my house, and how I got to this place of being EXCITED to live in ~200sft, from where I was when I was younger.
At one point when I was about 15, I realized that I’d never be able to run away from home unless I figured out what of my belongings, only enough that could be stuffed into my acoustic guitar case, were actually important to me. There was something beautiful about the fantasy of having only what I carried with me.
That year I went from having a closet full of notes, papers, stubs, and random shit that reminded me of things, to one giant box. Over the next 16 years the giant memory box morfed to a smaller box that morfed info a small shoe box, and now no longer exists.
I think of my memory box as being symbolic for the rest of my life which has gotten smaller and lighter, too.
Though often exhilarating, getting rid of my material bloat wasn’t always easy, and it took a long time. The v2.0 me never would have believed it, but I am far, far happier, with less.
A few people in my life are coming to the first steps of working through organizing and minimalizing theirs, which has incited me to think about how it was that I did it over the years.
Here’s what I’ve figured out so far
1: I Made a Mess
Transition is messy, and when I am doing it right, paring down is messy. It means emptying out all the drawers of my dresser and putting my clothes into piles all over my bed (3 of them – keep, give/donate, trash) that sometimes take a while to address.
It means emptying boxes out onto the middle of the floor and dealing with the disaster. It means being ok with dishevelment in order to have the opportunity to see the big picture.
And it also means being dedicated and determined enough not to give up and just leave shit like that.
Trying to be tidy and doing things like taking out each dresser drawer individually and looking through the folded things inside doesn’t give me a real sense of what I have. And I have found the existing organization, itself, when trying to think in a new way, becomes a limiting perspective.
I am far less likely to be real about how many 3ft USB cables I need (hint: not 5) when I am sitting there staring at how they fit perfectly all coiled up where they are.
2: I Got help
I am naturally organized, good at packing, and creative with storage, but if you aren’t, get help from someone who is! And even if you are, get help from someone who is!
It can be really nice to have a person to bounce things off of, joke around with, help run loads out of my sight, for emotional support if I needed it while going through things that may trigger memories, for accountability, and to celebrate with when the task was done. When I was first starting purging, I really needed the accountability and boost of energy having help brought.
3: I scheduled it.
I usually go through my less-used cupboards and boxes a couple times a year to take inventory and get rid of things I just don’t need anymore. I put it on my calendar, have a reasonable goal, and give myself the entire day to achieve it.
There is simply no substitute for making the time to clean out my closet and my life.
4: I (probably) only need one
Ok, yes, it makes sense to have a selection of teas, and a few different mustards, because HELLO, MUSTARD IS AWESOME. It makes sense to have more than one glass, so I can entertain. But seriously, do I need 3 colanders?
No. No, I do not need 3 colanders. Not even a little bit.
5: I made mistakes.
Mistakes are ok. I’ve gotten rid of art supplies and musical instruments that I wish I hadn’t. There are a few letters I no longer have that I would have liked to have read again. But I learned that mistakes are ok most recognizably when I wiped the wrong hard drive and I lost all my memories and photos and original files for my art/music for a few years.
I was paralyzed with fear and remorse the moment I realized what I’d done – a feeling I remember well when first attempting to change how I viewed my stuff. I survived it, and now come to a place of ease much more quickly when similar losses happen.
Attrition and destruction are a natural part of existing, even if they come from a mistake you’ve made. When deciding whether to let go of things I am often reminded that the world will not end if I realize a week later that I would have liked to have worn a shirt I gave away or I end up having to procure another USB mouse because I hastily got rid of mine thinking I wouldn’t need it again.
In reality, there are very, very few things that I own that would actually impact my life if I did not have anymore. It took testing and experience to differentiate a self destructive impulse to purge from a life affirming one. By doing this I am able to handle my mistakes gracefully.
Not only has that realization freed me of a lot of the pressure I used to feel when tasking myself to pare down, it’s also given me a more keen sense of appreciation for what I do choose to keep.
6: I let go
A big part of letting go of attachment to a lot of my material things has stemmed from learning in my personal growth that there is an inherent value in memories fading over time.
Memories are designed to fade. They are supposed to muddle and eventually go away, mostly. It’s how we grow and move on. Realizing that, at first, incited an intense feeling of loss and about a week long grief period. After that, though, it made getting rid of most of my nostalgic belongings relatively easy.
Accepting the value the statute of limitations of human memory has also significantly shortened the amount of time I needed to keep stuff around before I was ready to be without it, and helped me to reorganize my perspective around momentos.
Now, I keep things that remind me of an atmospheric time in my life more than I keep reminders of specific memories. This meant I could keep the best letter I got in middle school as opposed to 50 little things from that time like I had done in the past.
7: I Embraced Technology
Digitizing things is awesome. If a piece of paper is around to remind me of something, I put it in a spreadsheet or on my calendar instead.
If a picture of a sculpture that’s taking up 2sqft of counter space would make a good substitute, I take the picture and re-gift or sell the sculpture.
Some people would probably find scanning documents to be helpful too, but I haven’t gotten into it – takes way too much time. Perhaps that will be an element of Courtnee v3.4.
8: Bonus round: Clothes
From Kurt Cobain lookalike to kept Microsoft trophy wife with a walk in closet the size my house will be, and back again, my approach to clothes is this:
If I haven’t worn it in a while and I know someone who will love it, I give it to them.
If I haven’t worn it in a while and it’s worth money, I sell it.
If I haven’t worn it in a while and neither of the previous things are relevant, I donate it.
If I haven’t worn it in a while but I feel a deep electrical pain in my heart when I think of being without it, I keep it.
If I HAVE been wearing it, but I look at it and go “bleh”, I get rid of it.
Combined with “I only need one”, I have found this method works well.
My shift from being a pack rat to nearly everything I own fitting into a 10 foot truck happened fairly organically, and is attached to my growth into my life over the last 18 years. That doesn’t by any means imply that the process was always easy, or always pleasurable.
When I am purging, I am pressing up against my unconscious identifications with my stuff, my identifications with scarcity and poverty, my resistance to change, and my fears of not being or having enough. I think to some extend we all have our shit around our stuff, and that it’s generally some big shit to take on, taking courage to approach.
It took repetition and practice for the panic impulses to dissipate when I got rid of things. Some of my belongings are truly precious and fueling for me, but I found over time that my attachment to most things was fearful, more often than not, and that identifying with the stuff I owned was creating a monster that owned me.
It’s funny to me how much easier it is to let things go now that I have so much less. How much more I value and cherish what it is I have, now that I’m no longer attempting to fill a perceived void in myself with a bunch of insignificant shit. The process and questioning myself has been incredibly educational and enriching.
Maybe that’s not your story, but nonetheless, I hope that sharing what I’ve learned helps you along your way.