Decluttering Pitfalls and Problems

As you can probably guess from the title, I am still working on decluttering. I've confessed to you already, I am not a natural. My tendency is to hoard. Maybe not to the extent that could be classified as a mental illness, but I'm great at collecting and not so terrific at getting rid of stuff.

My last blog post discussed the steps I'm trying to work through, similar to the way an alcoholic works the 12-step program. My decluttering process involves lots and lots of steps, most of them very literal. I slog up and down the three separate sets of stairs in my ridiculously-too-large home carrying bag after bag of stuff. You know how sometimes when you order in a restaurant your eyes are too big for your tummy? Well, when we put this crazy addition on our home, our eyes were too big for our family.

And as I work the steps, I've discovered plenty of pitfalls along the way. You wouldn't think decluttering would be so fraught with peril...and yet it seems to be.

If you have children, you will automatically have a more difficult time decluttering because you will constantly run into stuff that belongs to your children. Artwork, journals, papers, projects, giant sculptures, posters, and the like. Not to mention awards, report cards, trophies, photos, gifts, cards, etc. My own mother didn't seem to have a hard time throwing out all my childhood mementos, like the tiny glass jar of baby teeth I saved. But I struggle.

If you have parents and/or grandparents who have passed on, you might have inherited a bunch of their stuff. I currently own some of my grandparents' furniture from the apartment in Brooklyn where my father was raised. Sure, these pieces bring back many memories. But is it necessary for me to move this furniture around in order to remember these loved ones? Experts say to take a photo of these objects to hold onto the memories, then let the actual objects go. I never thought I'd be able to do this, but I'm considering this option.

One's stuff can get disturbingly entangled with various emotions. Getting rid of stuff might feel like severing a connection with the past, leaving you adrift in the universe like that poor guy who was left for dead on Mars. And while moving forward can be a positive thing, there is inevitably some fear of change and fear of the unknown involved. Holding tightly to our stuff, or our relative's stuff, maybe even our ancestor's stuff, might help us feel more grounded. The stuff stays the same, no matter who grows up, or passes on, or moves away. But lugging around a lot of bulky, heavy, dusty, old stuff can be an expensive way of trying to stay grounded.

And speaking of change: letting go of accumulated stuff is one way of making room--in our homes, in our hallways, in our hearts--for change. And change is a mixed bag. Change involves new things--people, places, jobs, situations--entering our lives, but also involves the loss of things we leave behind. There is joy and sadness. There is excitement and fear. As we declutter, we run into all of these emotions, again and again.

Have I figured out the answer? No. I don't have a magic formula, like Marie Kondo. I just have a messy, drawn-out, often painful process. I don't see any way around it. I must continue wading through, taking the steps, up and down, sometimes treading lightly, sometimes sitting and resting.Are you with me? It helps to know we are not alone.