getting rid of it
I've been getting rid of things for a few years now. Maybe you've tried this not-so-novel decluttering phenomenon?
In late 2017, I went on a big KonMari kick after I read "The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up." It was before the Netflix special and well before I knew we would move to a 200-year-old farmhouse with no garage. But the idea of minimalism appealed to me. I hate clutter. It's distracting, burdensome, and overwhelming to me. Yet we've been trained, as I was for most of my adult life, to feel like to point of growing up is to amass stuff. Other than occasionally donating clothes, the idea of getting rid of things had never crossed my mind. I had spent so much time getting the house, getting the job, buying the things, that I assumed that they were valuable. Marie Kondo challenged me to inspect the value of each and every item, by category, so I truly loved and used all the things I owned.
I was also in a stage of life with two kids under three, a full-time job, and a senior dog. One of the biggest attractions of minimalism then was the idea that I would have fewer things to do, clean, manage, and put away. One idea that resonated with me most is that piles of clutter in our home are essentially to-do lists everywhere. Literally the last thing I needed.
Suddenly this changed the filter through which I viewed everything in my home. So the cookbooks I had accumulated? Taunting me because I have no time to peruse them or to make elaborate recipes anymore. The craft supplies? Nope, not painting with acrylics anytime soon. The fancy dresses from my old job that no longer fit my postpartum body? Well, I could write a book on the emotions tangled up in that one. Even the small bookcase by my bed full of books I wanted to read someday: I was falling asleep looking at a to-do list.
It was time to let go of things that didn't work in my season of life. I kept only the things I truly loved and could use. My first purge was about 8 huge garbage bags full of stuff in my car. Then a few more. Once my kids were bigger, most of their baby stuff went. Then when we decide to move it got extra serious. Furniture, seasonal stuff, more clothes, and tons of miscellaneous objects went out the door. Once we arrived at our house even more got donated when it wouldn't fit or I knew I wouldn't need it in our new lifestyle.
All told, I let go of at least a third of what we owned. And I can count on one the hand the items that I've actually missed or had to purchase again. (Hello, oil-filled space heater for our drafty bedroom!)
Since that first KonMari exercise I've read dozens of books and blog posts about minimalism and the many benefits of owning less. Joshua Becker, Zoe Kim, Courtney Carver, Denaye Barahona, and Miranda Anderson are all great resources. It's been hard at times to reprogram my brain from buying things-- especially clothes, which I gave up buying during 2019 to help fund and manage our renovation. But this house became a very present tangible reminder of what I was choosing instead. Instead of heels, I'm choosing mud boots and walking with the kids. Instead of ceramic baking dishes and made-from-scratch recipes, I'm choosing Costco mac and cheese baking in foil while we play outside. Instead of a new car, we chose a tractor! Instead of a play kitchen, we chose a mud kitchen. Instead of a playset, we chose a big grassy field. Every day there are a ton of choices and none has a right or wrong answer. Sometimes what I choose really surprises me. It's just what works best for us right now.
In fact, I'm remembering those first 6 weeks in our new house when we just had a few rooms to live in. Most of our possessions were packed in the storage unit in the carport because the house was still under renovation. The boys' room was set up, and so was the kitchen, but Kevin and I were living out of a couple of small bins of clothes and personal items only. Getting ready in the morning was a cinch. I had a few tops and bottoms to choose from when I got dressed. A travel bag of toiletries. We had a small TV with Amazon Prime, and each a book, a journal, and a work laptop. It was actually kind of great.
One of my mantras for the move into our house was "A big messy adventure with nothing we don't need." It was important to me to embrace this new chapter without the burden of extra stuff. It's already an enormous task, but having excess would just put me over the edge. I have been thrilled to find that we have empty space on our shelves, closet space, and almost our entire attic. Room for us to breathe, to figure things out, and to grow here. (Although I am quite sure I never want to fill it up.) It feels more manageable and maneueverable to operate in this space without as many possessions. So I've continued the routine. Once a month or so, I fill up a bag with neglected toys, unused kitchen objects, or clothes that no longer suit my lifestyle. We drop it at Goodwill on the way to school. I've sold a few larger items on my office bulletin board. It feels good to pass on things that don't suit the season. I no longer feel any guilt about this, just total acceptance of moving forward to a new way of being.
Regarding the bookshelf, I saved only a handful of favorite books I've read and some parenting books that I want (NEED) to reference from time to time. I donated the rest. And after years of wasting money on Amazon to accumulate books I didn't have time to read, I finally became a regular patron at the North Regional library branch about 10 mins away. I reserve my books online since they are sometimes transferred from other branches and pick them up. I know you know this, but guys, it's free. I get every single book I want to read for free. If I never read it, no big deal, I take it back. But I actually read more often now. I renew online. I pick up tons of books for my kids very few weeks on every imaginable subject. (Only one casualty left in the rain overnight.) If they don't have it, I can request it, ask to borrow from a friend, or--last resort--order from Amazon. I don't know why this feels like such a shift for me except to say that I was programmed to buy, to own, to accumulate. And it feels amazing not to. I fall asleep with one book on my nightstand that I am actually enjoying reading or I return it to the library. Simple.
So here we are, with less stuff and a lot more space in so many ways. A home improvement to-do list that couldn't be finished in a lifetime. I'm OK with that because I chose it. Because I know each of those jobs, the things I still own, and this place bring me joy in this season. And when that changes maybe I'll get rid of them, too.
In late 2017, I went on a big KonMari kick after I read "The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up." It was before the Netflix special and well before I knew we would move to a 200-year-old farmhouse with no garage. But the idea of minimalism appealed to me. I hate clutter. It's distracting, burdensome, and overwhelming to me. Yet we've been trained, as I was for most of my adult life, to feel like to point of growing up is to amass stuff. Other than occasionally donating clothes, the idea of getting rid of things had never crossed my mind. I had spent so much time getting the house, getting the job, buying the things, that I assumed that they were valuable. Marie Kondo challenged me to inspect the value of each and every item, by category, so I truly loved and used all the things I owned.
I was also in a stage of life with two kids under three, a full-time job, and a senior dog. One of the biggest attractions of minimalism then was the idea that I would have fewer things to do, clean, manage, and put away. One idea that resonated with me most is that piles of clutter in our home are essentially to-do lists everywhere. Literally the last thing I needed.
Suddenly this changed the filter through which I viewed everything in my home. So the cookbooks I had accumulated? Taunting me because I have no time to peruse them or to make elaborate recipes anymore. The craft supplies? Nope, not painting with acrylics anytime soon. The fancy dresses from my old job that no longer fit my postpartum body? Well, I could write a book on the emotions tangled up in that one. Even the small bookcase by my bed full of books I wanted to read someday: I was falling asleep looking at a to-do list.
It was time to let go of things that didn't work in my season of life. I kept only the things I truly loved and could use. My first purge was about 8 huge garbage bags full of stuff in my car. Then a few more. Once my kids were bigger, most of their baby stuff went. Then when we decide to move it got extra serious. Furniture, seasonal stuff, more clothes, and tons of miscellaneous objects went out the door. Once we arrived at our house even more got donated when it wouldn't fit or I knew I wouldn't need it in our new lifestyle.
All told, I let go of at least a third of what we owned. And I can count on one the hand the items that I've actually missed or had to purchase again. (Hello, oil-filled space heater for our drafty bedroom!)
Since that first KonMari exercise I've read dozens of books and blog posts about minimalism and the many benefits of owning less. Joshua Becker, Zoe Kim, Courtney Carver, Denaye Barahona, and Miranda Anderson are all great resources. It's been hard at times to reprogram my brain from buying things-- especially clothes, which I gave up buying during 2019 to help fund and manage our renovation. But this house became a very present tangible reminder of what I was choosing instead. Instead of heels, I'm choosing mud boots and walking with the kids. Instead of ceramic baking dishes and made-from-scratch recipes, I'm choosing Costco mac and cheese baking in foil while we play outside. Instead of a new car, we chose a tractor! Instead of a play kitchen, we chose a mud kitchen. Instead of a playset, we chose a big grassy field. Every day there are a ton of choices and none has a right or wrong answer. Sometimes what I choose really surprises me. It's just what works best for us right now.
In fact, I'm remembering those first 6 weeks in our new house when we just had a few rooms to live in. Most of our possessions were packed in the storage unit in the carport because the house was still under renovation. The boys' room was set up, and so was the kitchen, but Kevin and I were living out of a couple of small bins of clothes and personal items only. Getting ready in the morning was a cinch. I had a few tops and bottoms to choose from when I got dressed. A travel bag of toiletries. We had a small TV with Amazon Prime, and each a book, a journal, and a work laptop. It was actually kind of great.
One of my mantras for the move into our house was "A big messy adventure with nothing we don't need." It was important to me to embrace this new chapter without the burden of extra stuff. It's already an enormous task, but having excess would just put me over the edge. I have been thrilled to find that we have empty space on our shelves, closet space, and almost our entire attic. Room for us to breathe, to figure things out, and to grow here. (Although I am quite sure I never want to fill it up.) It feels more manageable and maneueverable to operate in this space without as many possessions. So I've continued the routine. Once a month or so, I fill up a bag with neglected toys, unused kitchen objects, or clothes that no longer suit my lifestyle. We drop it at Goodwill on the way to school. I've sold a few larger items on my office bulletin board. It feels good to pass on things that don't suit the season. I no longer feel any guilt about this, just total acceptance of moving forward to a new way of being.
Regarding the bookshelf, I saved only a handful of favorite books I've read and some parenting books that I want (NEED) to reference from time to time. I donated the rest. And after years of wasting money on Amazon to accumulate books I didn't have time to read, I finally became a regular patron at the North Regional library branch about 10 mins away. I reserve my books online since they are sometimes transferred from other branches and pick them up. I know you know this, but guys, it's free. I get every single book I want to read for free. If I never read it, no big deal, I take it back. But I actually read more often now. I renew online. I pick up tons of books for my kids very few weeks on every imaginable subject. (Only one casualty left in the rain overnight.) If they don't have it, I can request it, ask to borrow from a friend, or--last resort--order from Amazon. I don't know why this feels like such a shift for me except to say that I was programmed to buy, to own, to accumulate. And it feels amazing not to. I fall asleep with one book on my nightstand that I am actually enjoying reading or I return it to the library. Simple.
So here we are, with less stuff and a lot more space in so many ways. A home improvement to-do list that couldn't be finished in a lifetime. I'm OK with that because I chose it. Because I know each of those jobs, the things I still own, and this place bring me joy in this season. And when that changes maybe I'll get rid of them, too.
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