Are you back? How was it? Were you able to go through with it? Was your heart racing? Did you feel faint? Could you do it again tomorrow?
Recently I saw a news item stating that the fastest growing entrepreneurial business in America was self storage rentals. One fellow, with an already large unit, confessed to a reporter that he would soon need a second shed to store his stuff. He felt compelled to visit his storage unit every day, to look at and touch his collected belongings.
On the opposite end of the scale, when I was a young child I befriended a classmate who moved to our small town. Her father was a manager for a chain discount store - a trouble shooter who was regularly transferred to branches operating in the red. He was good at what he did, and as soon as he had a store operating in the black, they'd move him to another location. My friend's mother kept an immaculately clean and organized home. Her secret, she said, was in moving so often. "When you have to pack it up and haul it around, you learn not to hang onto things you don't need," she said. She was, and still is, the only woman I've known in my life who didn't have a junk drawer.
Another friend has a sister whose motto was, "If I can't wear it or pack it on my Harley, then I guess I don't need it. That might be a bit too minimalist for most of us. So is there a happy medium? I'm relatively sure that if I had to pack up everything I own and schlep it around every couple of years, I'd let go of some of the dishes (5 good sized boxes at the time of my last move) that mostly adorn my china hutch and only rarely, if ever, make it to my table. And what about the two closets worth of craft supplies that were purchased with all good intentions or the third closet filled with clothes I haven't worn in more than a year? Okay, two or three years, but whose counting?
I dream of owning a notebook computer and living in a travel trailer. My college bound daughter laughs at what she calls my "hippie-gypsy" pipe dream. She wonders what I'll do with all my stuff. She, on the other hand, probably won't have much trouble fitting her stuff into a dorm room. Apparently the pack-rat gene didn't pass on to her.
Why do we hang onto things that no longer serve a purpose? The way I see it, there are three major reasons for keeping the stuff we don't need or use -
- Sentimental attachment
- Monetary Value
- Fear
Sentimental attachment it a tough one. You have to ask yourself how much of your past you need to hang onto. Do you really need a hundred photos from of every vacation (think about it, a mere 3 rolls of 36 prints equals 108) , or will a a few dozen really good pictures do? Must you save every doll or stuffed animal you or your children played with, or just the favorite one?
On a shelf in my parent's basement, I found a box containing all of the greeting cards they'd received on their 25th anniversary. They were so mildewed that they were toxic, sending me into a coughing, gasping fit. At the time of that anniversary, they'd chosen one card and had it beautifully framed. It hung on the wall for the next 40 years ~ the only one they needed to recall their happy memories of that day.
Sentimentality also applies to items that were gifts or handed down from people you love. If you don't really love it and use it, pass it on to somebody who will (maybe another family member who wanted it).
Releasing stuff that has monetary value proves equally difficult. It's really tough to let go of something for which you paid hard-earned cash, especially when selling it won't get you anywhere near the amount you paid for it. First, you have to admit you made a mistake - like that exercise bike that turned out to be a very expensive clothes hanger. If it's accumulating dust instead of miles you know you're not going to use it. Hang your clothes on a hook and sell the bike.
And speaking of clothes, if you don't wear something, it's just another costly item hanging around taking up space. You might try recouping some of your investment by selling good items in a consignment shop, but the bottom line is, if you don't wear it - get rid of it. This goes for all the wrong color lipstick and eye shadow, the single earrings (or anything else that comes in pairs) to which you've lost the mate, shoes that hurt your feet . . . well you get the idea. No matter how much you paid for it if you don't need or use it, pass it on.
Fear is a huge motivator for pack-rats. Items that fall into this category will tend to overlap the categories already mentioned. When you catch yourself thinking, "As soon as I get rid of this stuff, I'm going need it," you are in the clutches of fear. Just for fun, let's go back to the junk drawer. Are you really going to need that piece of broken chalk, the assorted covers that probably don't fit the assorted jars under your sink, they keys that don't unlock or start anything, or the dozens of bread bag twisties? If it is something useful that you might need in the future, I'll bet it belongs someplace else. What if you put 10 things away every day as well as releasing 10 things you don't need - the possibilities are staggering!
Fear can also rear its ugly head in the face of the previously mentioned stuff that was given or passed down to you. You fear that if you get rid of it, you will seem ungrateful or unloving. Ask yourself to whom? If the stuff is from loved ones who have passed on, find out if anybody else would like to have it - tell them you've derived some comfort having it, but now you are ready to release it to somebody who might need the same. If the giver is still with us, you can probably still get buy with releasing their gift if it's not something they expect to see every time they come to your house. Jjust make sure you don't sell it at a rummage sale they might attend.
So go ahead, find ten things every day and ask yourself, "Do I use this, need this or derive joy from this on a regular basis?" If you can't answer yes to at least one of those questions - release it. You'll be clutter free before you know it.
