Whatever you want to call it – decluttering, destashing, minimizing, downsizing, decrapifying – it's all really hard.
And it shouldn't be this hard. Why are we so attached to our stuff? And so much of it? I can see my attachment to certain things that have sentimental value, or that I've made, or that were given to me by someone I care about, but some of it . . . why was it so hard to clean out the junk drawer in the kitchen? Why did I get sweaty palms thinking that someday, I might need that pack of thumbtacks, that box of toothpicks (both never opened), that extra, extra, extra Phillips head screwdriver (in spite of having 2 full tool boxes already)? If I throw it out, and I need it, I probably will still have one, and if not, I’ll find something else that will do.
In the last couple of months, I've taken about 10 shopping carts worth of crap to the thrift store, including a small, square black-and-white TV. Really? Why was that still deep in a closet? It worked, but who cares if it does? I don’t replace technology just because it gets a little outdated, but a black-and-white TV with tubes – even I have to draw the line there.
The closet's going to be the hardest part yet. Almost everything left in it is something I've made, and even if it doesn't fit, or it’s not flattering on me, I remember how much work went into it, or how much the fabric cost, or where I was when I bought it.
But I think I'll feel better once I do it. Every time I take another load out of the house, I feel like I've lost weight, and I have, even if it's just off the joists and in my head. Sometimes I think less can be more.
And that’s what I’m working toward.
