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wakinglife at 09:05am on 04/05/2009 under authentic life, clutter, decluttering, someday, stuff
wakinglife at 09:05am on 04/05/2009 under authentic life, clutter, decluttering, someday, stuffIt's come to my attention that I have a lot of stuff. Accumulation is a natural by-product of living of course, but when you sit back and take stock, it can be overwhelming. I'm guilty of the occasional retail therapy (okay more than occasional). There's nothing like new underwear or a new sheet set to brighten my mood when I'm having a bad day!
The trouble is when we keep accumulating and hoarding and we don't evaluate the things we already have. Most of the stuff I hold on to is for sentimental reasons. Clothing I wore when I was with a certain person, photographs and letters, birthday cards, writing and essays from school. I'm gotten pretty good about cleaning out my closet every few weeks or months, but there's still things I hold onto for someday.
Someday, when I have kids, they might want to know about my old boyfriends.
Someday, when I lose ten pounds, I'll fit into this dress.
Someday, when my parents have passed on, I will treasure this card.
Someday, my kids will want these toys.
Someday, my __________ collection will be worth a lot of money.
Someday, I'll pick up my guitar again.
The problem, of course, with living for someday and for saving for someday, is that sometimes someday never comes.
And in the meantime, I'm living with all this stuff; these mementos and even things like old or unwanted makeup that I feel guilty throwing away (because I know it will end up in a landfill). Some days, I can feel the physical weight of my ownership on me and I think of what a relief it would be to declutter. Other days, it makes me panic to think of giving away things that I treasure, even if I never do take them out to look at. The scariest part about decluttering is feeling exposed or vulnerable.
My stuff acts as a kind of safety blanket. It reassures me, it consoles me, it reminds me of who I am and where I've come from. For example, I have trouble throwing out things from my California life because I feel to get rid of everything I got there would be to excise a big part of my history. Yes, I'd still have lived in California, but where would be the proof? And why is proof of life so important?
What are some things that you're holding onto? What are some viable solutions to decluttering? (Donating to Good Will, giving to friends, selling on E-bay, recycling). Why do you think we keep these things? How does letting our stuff define us keep us from living an authentic life?
***
* This post was inspired by one of Sarah's posts.
The trouble is when we keep accumulating and hoarding and we don't evaluate the things we already have. Most of the stuff I hold on to is for sentimental reasons. Clothing I wore when I was with a certain person, photographs and letters, birthday cards, writing and essays from school. I'm gotten pretty good about cleaning out my closet every few weeks or months, but there's still things I hold onto for someday.
Someday, when I have kids, they might want to know about my old boyfriends.
Someday, when I lose ten pounds, I'll fit into this dress.
Someday, when my parents have passed on, I will treasure this card.
Someday, my kids will want these toys.
Someday, my __________ collection will be worth a lot of money.
Someday, I'll pick up my guitar again.
The problem, of course, with living for someday and for saving for someday, is that sometimes someday never comes.
And in the meantime, I'm living with all this stuff; these mementos and even things like old or unwanted makeup that I feel guilty throwing away (because I know it will end up in a landfill). Some days, I can feel the physical weight of my ownership on me and I think of what a relief it would be to declutter. Other days, it makes me panic to think of giving away things that I treasure, even if I never do take them out to look at. The scariest part about decluttering is feeling exposed or vulnerable.
My stuff acts as a kind of safety blanket. It reassures me, it consoles me, it reminds me of who I am and where I've come from. For example, I have trouble throwing out things from my California life because I feel to get rid of everything I got there would be to excise a big part of my history. Yes, I'd still have lived in California, but where would be the proof? And why is proof of life so important?
What are some things that you're holding onto? What are some viable solutions to decluttering? (Donating to Good Will, giving to friends, selling on E-bay, recycling). Why do you think we keep these things? How does letting our stuff define us keep us from living an authentic life?
***
* This post was inspired by one of Sarah's posts.
artistic