Spring cleaning has come early this year. I feel suffocated, small, squashed by STUFF. Like the things around me are clamoring so loudly, they're telling me who I am...and I'm not sure that "who" fits me anymore.
I have to laugh sometimes--I'm surrounded by signs, big and small, that say "simplify". And how is surrounding myself with a bunch of signs simplifying anything? Umm. More to organize. More to dust. More to READ. And how, pray tell, is reading "simplify" every time I turn around benefitting me? I don't feel benefitted at all...
So I'm purging.
When I moved into this house, I already had a lot of things that I loved--things that expressed my personality in beautiful/weird ways (pretty fitting!)--and I continued to collect treasures here and there that reflected facets of who I am. Of course, family and friends have also gifted me with additional pieces over the years...and my "little collections" are all grown up now and breathing down my neck at every turn.
And I've been left wondering where things changed. I'm not my stuff. I am ME. I'm not the mixing bowls/coasters/cookbooks/baskets with which I've been gifted. I'm not even the hayhooks/cobalt glass/milk bottles/"simplify" signs I've bought myself. I'm not a house full of clutter. And I'm no longer going to let any of that control me and attempt to tell me who I am.
I need to breathe. I need to not have my senses bombarded at every turn by something to read/see/smell. I need space. I need to reclaim my home for myself. I need to reclaim ME.
I gutted my kitchen this evening. Tossed about half of my cookbooks in the rummage sale pile. Cleared everything but the toaster, coffeemaker and food processor off the countertop. Decluttered the top of the fridge and microwave. Truly simplified. It looks almost like it did when I first moved in, before I started adding things. I like it. I can breathe.
I already had about half the living room done and I'm finding I really like the clean lines and empty spaces. Not every tabletop/inch of shelf space has to be covered. Empty spaces leave room for possibility.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
5 comments:
BTDT. Been there done that. I have to do that about every two years. A lot of people like it when I do. They get free stuff. I hate rummage sales, and would never have one. But I do donate to charity sales, and those around me that may need what I have.
That sounds lovely. As a child, I grew up surrounded by clutter (although that's a nice word for it--"squalor" might be more accurate), and I have become a grown-up purger. We have to scrounge to find things to give away when the Kidney Foundation people call for donations, and I love that. Clutter still accumulates, though, and I can totally relate to the emotional effect that it has on you. Purging is cleansing, and empty surfaces make me feel like I can breathe. Enjoy your purge-fest :) (by the way, this post reminded me of a memoir I wrote--my first one!--I'm going to send it to you)
I'm glad that you know that the "stuff" is not you. People often identity who they are with what they have. Your heart is free. Keep becoming what your heart is.
Wow.
I guess I could say great minds think alike. I have been having this exact conversation with myself lately..I am such a pack rat. I keep everything. I was looking through my room at school, I have so much "stuff"
All my school work. A 3 foot stack of magazines. Envelopes and statements of bills, stuff stuff stuff.
I am moving in three months. I've been telling myself when that happens..it's all going to the trash. Why not start sooner? Maybe I will...
Go for it! It's such a good feeling to see empty space.
This all started with trying to "see" how the couch I want to buy would look in the room...and the more I looked at the room, the more disgusted I became with all the crap.
Today I got rid of the table that was right inside the front door...and instead put my quirky little chair that used to be a rocker (that I love, but no one else does) there instead.
The space looks bigger and cleaner...and now I'm thinking maybe I'll go for the loveseat instead of the couch, since I'm the only one who ever sits in my living room, anyway. I don't ever sleep on the couch...and even if I did, I wouldn't need one that was 8 feet long. I think I'd rather see some bare floor instead.
It's so funny to see how much the "me" of a few years ago has changed. And here I am, thinking that I hate change. Obviously, it sneaks up on you and does its work before you even notice it sometimes.
Post a Comment