Wrist-y Pleasures I've been drawn to the idea of simplifying for some years now. I fantasize about being totally content in a "tiny house," whittling my closet down to a "capsule wardrobe," or feeling secure in knowing if I needed to permanently leave my home tomorrow, everything I need and care about would fit with my husband, dogs, and me in the car. (How we pack for a road trip provides a reality check on that last fantasy...)
I didn't need the pandemic to recognize the hold that owning so much stuff has on me, but shortages caused by fearful people stockpiling basic goods magnify the problem of basing one's sense of security on things. Even though we have never been in paper goods crisis or at risk of starving, being bombarded with media reports of empty store shelves creates a niggling little sense of fear that maybe we don't have "enough." That fear conflicts with my absolute conviction that my security is not in the things of this world, so it must be quashed. I needed a battle strategy that would work despite being a procrastinator easily overwhelmed by the big picture married to a sentimental man who finds pleasure in dust-collecting objects and things he "might need someday."
I didn't need the pandemic to recognize the hold that owning so much stuff has on me, but shortages caused by fearful people stockpiling basic goods magnify the problem of basing one's sense of security on things. Even though we have never been in paper goods crisis or at risk of starving, being bombarded with media reports of empty store shelves creates a niggling little sense of fear that maybe we don't have "enough." That fear conflicts with my absolute conviction that my security is not in the things of this world, so it must be quashed. I needed a battle strategy that would work despite being a procrastinator easily overwhelmed by the big picture married to a sentimental man who finds pleasure in dust-collecting objects and things he "might need someday."
So, having plenty of time these days, I read all kinds of online articles and blog posts, and then finally cracked open a book I've had for more than a year: The More of Less by Joshua Becker of Becoming Minimalist, who's a noted motivator in the current minimalist-seeking culture. Turns out his definition of minimalism is not bare walls and capsule wardrobes, but "the intentional promotion of the things we most value and the removal of anything that distracts us from them." Perspective shift! Unfortunately, I tend to start things, get overwhelmed, then leave the things unfinished. Becker suggests starting small, so I decided to try cleaning out one small area at a time. An area I look at every day. And then savor it.
I began a couple weeks ago with a book purge that opened up some shelf space. Since office clutter bothers me, being able to look at space around objects is refreshing. Good start.
I began a couple weeks ago with a book purge that opened up some shelf space. Since office clutter bothers me, being able to look at space around objects is refreshing. Good start.
Next I removed a picture for which I have no sentimental attachment from a bathroom wall and turned that wall into a space to store my essential oils. I'm really proud of myself for re-purposing that fabric organizer into a shelf unit! (True confession: I spent days looking at storage options on Amazon and Etsy before disciplining myself to get creative with something I had.) This little project really energized me because not only do I like the way it looks, but the oils are easily accessible and everything in that space has meaning and/or purpose.
A couple days later, I focused on a counter area by the bathroom sink where I have a collection of things I use daily and things I "should use up" or "might want to try." I was ruthless. Okay, semi-ruthless. But it looks and functions better.
Another day, I tackled one shelf in the bathroom cupboards. Just one. It took a few hours because I had to make decisions (a common trigger to procrastination.) Hair products I haven't used in years? Or ever? Unused eyeglass cases, nearly empty bottles of this and that...agonizing. But I did it.
A couple days later, I focused on a counter area by the bathroom sink where I have a collection of things I use daily and things I "should use up" or "might want to try." I was ruthless. Okay, semi-ruthless. But it looks and functions better.
Another day, I tackled one shelf in the bathroom cupboards. Just one. It took a few hours because I had to make decisions (a common trigger to procrastination.) Hair products I haven't used in years? Or ever? Unused eyeglass cases, nearly empty bottles of this and that...agonizing. But I did it.
Bracelets as art! Today's project was the top of my jewelry box, which was buried under a mountain of cards, bracelets, and miscellaneous doodads that I couldn't make decisions about. I like bracelets because they're a quick and easy accessory. I justify my collection because they're mostly inexpensive (think Paparazzi) or were purchased from a crafter (supporting local businesses!) or have sentimental value (name bracelet gifted to me when I was 16.) I did cull a few from the pile to donate, and everything else cluttering the top was moved somewhere else, or garbaged. (One of life's mysteries: if you can't identify the use or origin of something, why is it hard to throw it away?) The result is a collection of bracelets I can enjoy looking at when I'm not wearing them. Satisfying.
I am a long way from those who have embraced minimalism with such gusto that they've moved to tiny houses or gotten rid of 1000 things in 90 days - although I really do admire that! But I'm making (another) start, and minimal progress is better than no progress.
#simplicity #minimalism #cleartheclutter
I am a long way from those who have embraced minimalism with such gusto that they've moved to tiny houses or gotten rid of 1000 things in 90 days - although I really do admire that! But I'm making (another) start, and minimal progress is better than no progress.
#simplicity #minimalism #cleartheclutter
