Dave and I came home from a month's rotation in Temple to discover our closet covered in mold. Water from a roof leak behind the wall had puddled in our closet's carpet. So we hauled everything out of the closet, threw away a lot, and we're now in the process of washing all of the clothes while maintenance finishes repairs.
I'd been wanting to go through that closet, anyway.
Ever since childhood when I first moved from Michigan to Texas, I've learned to welcome opportunities to donate or throw things away. I've moved over a dozen times, and every time I wonder where all this stuff came from. And I have no idea how much I've left behind in dumpsters and in Goodwill stores. But when I have to pack it, I begin to wonder if I really need it. Instead of waiting for a big move, though, I've started purging at various times whenever the opportunity arises.
My husband is wary of these purges. They usually mean I'm going to cause chaos that he has to assist in cleaning up. I try not to involve his possessions, and so far he hasn't given me a reason to. Usually when I start this process, he gets inspired as well.
The last time we moved, it was sudden and in difficult circumstances. Our apartment building had caught on fire and while our apartment didn't burn, it did get a ton of water. Renter's insurance paid for a packing crew, which was wonderful. And at that point I was grateful for whatever wasn't waterlogged. The unpacking process has been mostly an exploration of what survived. But even after losing so much, I still feel like we have too much stuff. Next year Dave and I might be moving, depending on where his residency is, and I'd like to start that next phase of our life without needing a huge moving truck, especially if it's all going to stay in boxes even after we get there.
Like anyone looking for tips in this area, I stumbled on Marie Kondo's book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. I devoured it in a couple of days. It might not work for everyone, and I don't agree with everything she suggests, but it has made a huge difference in how I approach my possessions. Instead of finding ways to organize everything, determine what brings you joy and discard the rest. It's pretty simple. It doesn't really apply to things you need, but you'd be surprised at how little you need.
The biggest hurdle I face is the sentimental factor. The best example I have for this is my box of photos. It wasn't a huge box, about the size of a shoe box. I kept pictures from childhood, middle school, high school, college, post-college, my wedding, everything. But most of them were terrible. Bleary, dark, nondescript. Or they were multiples, remains of the years when double prints were the norm no matter what. It felt a little ruthless, but I weeded out probably two thirds of my photos. Everything that remained was special to me. I got rid of pics from my years with old boyfriends, pics of those old boyfriends, everything. I'd held on to those pictures for all this time because I felt I had to, as though the memories would fade if I didn't keep every bad picture. But I don't need to remember everything. I won't be quizzed on any of it. And what memories I have of the events are better than the pictures, anyway.
I've been taking that same ruthlessness to other sentimental items. I kept a lot of my mom's things after she died, trying to cling to her memory, but her style and mine are not compatible. That collection has dwindled over the past few years, and I find that I'm slowly dropping baggage with her memory as I go.
My goal over the next 6 months is to cut our collection of stuff down to essentials. There's little that we've accumulated in our marriage so far that I absolutely cannot imagine having forever. Most of it is yard sale thrift store hand me downs. And it's just stuff we will have to pack and pay to move later. Might as well purge it all now to make room for life after school.
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