Giant Fancy… Minimalism?
When I first wrote about decluttering, some people hated it.
A few predicted CRUSHING REGRET.
This has not happened.
The opposite.
As I have cleared away clutter, more has looked like clutter… and somewhere along the way, I got a glimpse of something magical:
RADICAL
SIMPLICITY
For some brief moment, I SAW the option.
It was a blazing epiphany of nirvana.
I got it.
I *tore* into my closet.
I had decluttered the closet before, but not really; I’d only really discarded things that were truly unwearable– stuff I was keeping for when someone comes and steals all of my other clothing in the night.
This time, I pulled it all out.
I made a giant spectacular disaster mess all across the floor of the bedroom.
Instantly, I was seized with paralysis and regret.
My clothes are *MY HOARDING JAM.*
Just looking at the stacks,
I felt the attachment.
I was definitely not letting go of any of this VERY PRECIOUS STUFF FROM TJMAXX.
So I just left the giant spectacular disaster mess.
Two weeks…
…a month…
Thirteen weeks and three days.
Paul was like— what’s going on in here?
And I was like— I really don’t know. I guess we live like this now. Just don’t walk around.
The longer the piles sat there, the less the stuff looked… precious… the more it started to look like a pile of garbage nuisance.
Randomly, one day, Self was like— well, we could just TRY ON, one pair of those jeans. JUST ONE.
And you know what? I didn’t like them.
I DISLIKED them.
Out of my closet, I took two white garbage bags:
My circa 1997, Steve Madden knee-high platform boots— an actual physical representation of my 20-year-old soul.
I keep them in separate garbage bags because they shed black powder flakes all over everything.
You know when you have an absolutely perfect piece of clothing?
That was these boots.
They are a piece of myself.
AND I will never wear them again.
To wear them, I would need to tolerate the disintegrating vinyl lining sticking to my tights, my socks, my bare legs; leaving a powdery black visible ring around the top of my calf.
Typing this out, Self helpfully suggests— what if you GOT THE SHOP VAC AND REALLY SCRUBBED WITH THE BRUSH ATTACHMENT?
You should at least TRY.
BECAUSE WHAT IF SOMETIME IN THE FUTURE IT TURNS OUT YOU NEED ROTTING PLATFORM BOOTS?
AND YOU THREW YOURS AWAY.
Like an idiot.
I put the boots (in their separate bags) near the steps— to take out to the trash.
Then the bags sat there.
For a week…
Six weeks…
Six months and nine days…
But then, one day, out of nowhere— I was ready to detach.
I ran to the steps and got the bags and RAN and shoved them at Paul and said— quickly! Hide these bags in the garage until trash day. *DO NOT* let me EVER SEE THEM EVER AGAIN OR I WILL NEED TO TAKE THEM BACK AND REEVALUATE.
QUICKLY!
Go! Hurry! Fastfastfastsofast!
NOW!!
LITERALLY RIGHT THIS SECOND.
No, no, what are you doing??!
Do you know what Paul did? He opened the bags and looked in and said– but wouldn’t somebody WANT these boots?
And I was like– do you literally not speak human language?
LISTEN TO ME:
God had to intervene, for me to get rid of these bags.
Do you understand?
LITERALLY GOD.
I PRAYED *ALOUD* TO THE BABY JESUS, for a MIRACLE to allow me to LET GO OF THESE BAGS OF LITERAL GARBAGE THAT NO ONE CAN WEAR OR SELL OR USE and really MY PLAN was to just leave them sitting here at the top of the stairs forever.
But then, THROUGH THE GRACE OF THE BABY JESUS I had a FRACTION of CLARITY… for a moment, I GLIMPSED my own insanity— I SAW that I am STORING GARBAGE ANXIETY IN MY CLOSET AND IT’S A METAPHOR FOR MY ENTIRE LIFE.
I don’t want to be this way anymore.
I wish to DISCARD my garbage armor.
Literally. Figuratively. Metaphorically.
ALL OF IT.
BE GONE YE GARBAGE.
*Intermission*
Something about writing about MY experiences,
sometimes makes total strangers defensive.
So please read this disclaimer:
I’m writing about ME.
And:
If you WANT your stuff,
you are not having the same experience I am having.
For me, I have come to see that the reason I am keeping SO MUCH STUFF is NOT want or use or love; it is: Guilt. Anxiety. Stress. Responsibility. OVERWHELM.
Perceiving value, feeling RESPONSIBLE for this THING THAT MAYBE I COULD SELL FOR SEVEN DOLLARS OR SEVEN HUNDRED OR SEVEN THOUSAND DOLLARS but if I DON’T GET THAT then I DON’T WANT TO SELL IT SO MAYBE I SHOULD JUST KEEP IT.
It is easier to keep the thing.
To SAVE IT.
To AVOID THE ANXIETY.
*End intermission*
At some point, I SAW:
Myself,
trying to get a chocolate stain out of a twenty-year-old sweater that I haven’t worn in actual decades but it’s a really nice sweater that SOMEONE would like to have but this stain is definitely going to need…
And I extrapolated a GLIMPSE of how my entire life, I have been worried about the wrong things; and how it has paralyzed me.
Worrying. About. The. Wrong. Things.
Feeling RESPONSIBLE FOR THE WRONG THINGS.
Being overwhelmed by stupid minutia— trying to control every last thing.
TRYING TO CONTROL EVERY LAST THING.
I finally SAW:
*WHY* AM I CHOOSING THIS RIGIDITY AND MARCHING?
WHY?
NO REALLY?
WHY?
If you are someone who thinks maybe they would like to get rid of some stuff, but you literally cannot detach – girl, I hear you.
I wrote my first post about decluttering four years ago.
It took on a momentum of its own.
Your brain changes.
You start to see things differently.
The open uncluttered space became more appealing than:
stuff I got on Craigslist 10 years ago that I see VALUE in and I got an insane bargain and also there are lots of people who would really like to have this thing for themselves so I should definitely keep it and since all of this room is chaos anyway I might as well save some boxes in here too because you know, I do really hate to throw away a good box.
Focus on what you WANT to keep.
You start to see the difference and detach more easily.
You don’t have to do it all at once.
There are no rules.
Sometimes you will reclaim 50 things from your sorting pile.
Totally fine.
Just see where it takes you.
You’ll be surprised.
If you are wrestling yourself to the ground over some item, just leave it.
It will sort itself out.
You WON’T get rid of anything ACTUALLY important.
You might FORGET why you donated it, and think you made a mistake, but if it was ACTUALLY important to your existence, you ABSOLUTELY would have kept it.
Parable of the Forever 21 t-shirt:
I thought I donated a t-shirt from Forever 21, circa 2003, that was the PERFECT shade of deep rosy pink.
Months later, I was SEIZED WITH A NEED FOR THAT *EXACT* COLOR SHIRT.
*NO OTHER SHIRT WOULD DO.*
And I was like— dammit, I NEED that t-shirt.
WHY WOULD I GET RID OF THAT!?!
My life is RUINED.
A year later, in the basement, I found that life-necessary t-shirt, in a bag of rags, and I was like— OMGHALLELUJAH I DIDN’T RUIN MY LIFE!!!!!
I RAN upstairs to try it on and confirm that indeed, this IS the only acceptable t-shirt!
And I hated it.
And I remembered, oh yeah it has this weird stain-line from being folded in the closet, unworn for twenty years.
And oh yeah IT SAYS *BOMBSHELL GIRLS* in pink glitter.
And, oh yeah, it’s pilled and misshapen and way too short and made out of trash fabric from Forever 21.
And OH YEAH I AM 46 NOW AND KNOW ABOUT NET-A-PORTER.
I didn’t NEED to REGRET getting rid of this.
My initial assessment was correct.
Which led me to the glimpse:
I don’t really trust my own judgment.
In fact, this entire exercise— the clearing-away, of layers of unloved, unevaluated stuff, has illuminated some things about myself that I was blind to.
I came to see:
It has nothing to do with stuff.
It has to do with protection against regret.
Protection against making a mistake.
I HATE MISTAKES.
I REALLY I ABHORE A MISTAKE.
I came to see that rigid perfectionism is my jailer.
And that I can choose otherwise.
And that OTHERWISE IS SO MUCH EASIER.
And that SOMETIMES perfectionism is a tremendous gift of magic.
And the point is to know when you are making magic, and when you are just flogging yourself mercilessly for no reason at all.
I came to see the option for letting go of the things that do not matter.
Letting go:
of chaos, overwhelm, panic.
of obsessive perfection, indecision chaos, paralysis overwhelm, addictive, compulsive, rigid, controlling, hoarding.
We’ll have to cover all of that in another post, because as usual, this one long-exceeds the attention span of the internet.
So.
To bring this full circle to my last post about opening an antique store:
I was going Mach27lightspeed towards a shop full of Giant Fancy Things.
A singleminded, maniacal march towards Craigslist domination.
While simultaneously performing some kind of self-administered brain-transplant via decluttering and Eckhart Tolle.
I THOUGHT these two paths were intersecting at the junction of me, taking all but my VERY MOST FAVORITES to my antique store.
Then my brother died.
Not what you were expecting?
Me either.
I crashed directly into the ground.
That lasted for a good while.
After the initial grief paralysis, I was SEIZED with a COMPULSION to CLEAN my house.
To impose ORDER.
On something.
So. Much. Cleaning.
POSSESSED CLEANING.
And.
The decluttering reached another level.
The level where I ACTUALLY DETACHED.
I detached from things that had been sitting in piles for…
years?
Literal years.
I detached from the magic skirt.
That’s not code for something; it’s a literal description of a magical item of clothing.
It had been thrown over the upstairs railing for six months… I didn’t WANT it anymore. I WANTED to be free from these ENDLESS PILES OF STUFF but ACTUALLY LETTING GO was impossible.
But after Matthew died, I was like— this skirt issue here is not the issue I thought it was.
I didn’t try to sell any of the clothing on eBay.
I gave myself the gift of not flogging myself.
I chose to JUST BE DONE.
I took it all to the donation place.
I got rid of all of the books I don’t REALLY LOVE.
Even though it left empty space on the shelves.
I started selling all the stuff I had collected for my store.
I accepted the sane option— just use the garage.
IT’S FREE AND THE COMMUTE IS PRETTY GOOD.
And,
*whispers*
I have begun to cull favorites.
I hate to tell you this, because it’s a betrayal of my sacred blood oath to own ALL OF THE FANCY THINGS: I had the passing thought— I could let go of the Narnia wardrobe.
It’s SO BIG.
The room would be so much more OPEN, without it.
Self slapped me soundly across the face,
so at this point, no.
But the fact that I would even consider it is *astounding.*
Like, it’s THE LITERAL PORTAL TO NARNIA.
So.
This post is over now.
There isn’t really an ending, I’m just reporting the events.
June 20, 2023 @ 11:33 am
I was so happy to see you back today. Wow, this post so resonates with me. I’m so sorry to hear of your brother’s passing. I lost my husband 2 1/2 years ago and I’m now living with all his hoarding, and mine, and it is mentally debilitating. I finally cleaned out our bedroom closets 6 months ago, but still have piles of clothes that I was hoping to sell or that I’m emotionally attached to. This is after donating/pitching at least 20 contractor garbage bags of clothing. I still haven’t cleaned out enough to repaint the room. And this is just the first of the hoarding rooms! I have a whole library of all his collections—complete items in display cabinets, dozens of boxes and bins of pieces and parts and 2 closets full of other collections. It’s truly overwhelming. I don’t even go into the room anymore unless I have to. I won’t even get into my own craft/sewing room of hoarding. Since I have his stuff to worry about, I don’t have brain space to even think about my spaces. The best I’ve been able to do is stop buying anything! Unfortunately, the unexpected loss of his income definitely helped in that regard. I wish you luck on your journey of simplifying and hope to get their myself someday. Please be well and keep posting! I love your wit and storytelling skills!
June 20, 2023 @ 11:35 am
I have nothing I can say except I love you. I loved you when you were collecting all the GFT’s that I was green with envy over. I love you now that you are releasing all that does not serve you. I am taking your lesson to heart. I love you for the fact that you have lived through the shock and grief of loosing your brother and that you have survived. I’m holding space for you on this journey and I’m honored that you share it with us.
June 20, 2023 @ 11:43 am
I just wish you would post more often:). I subscribed, but maybe I’m missing some, or maybe you just don’t post a lot:)
June 20, 2023 @ 11:44 am
You’ve written so beautifully about your relationship with your brothers in the past. I am so very sorry for your immense loss.
Thank you for the post. I think I’m likely not the only one who needed to hear this.
June 20, 2023 @ 11:46 am
You might have to change your site name “dictator. procrastinator. hoarder.”
June 20, 2023 @ 11:50 am
Once upon a time there was a nurse (me) who was in debt along with her husband. And she worked and worked and worked and took all the operating room (OR) call she could. Along the way she earned a BSN and an MSN. At the end she was working 50 hours a week as the evening charge nurse AND taking 80 hours of call for the OR. And over much time the debt was paid off.
Enter pandemic just as she was finishing her MSN.
Enter a newly minted day shift charge who had less than 3 years’ experience in NURSING and less than that in the OR and half of that she was carrying and birthing 2 babies. And they wanted to put this new day shift charge in charge of the evening shift charge nurse. Who was very unhappy with the change of events and this teenager being in “charge” of her.
Enter a newly formed shift for the OR, a 50 hour a week call position. 2100-0700 (9 pm- 7 am). For SALARY (!!!). The evening charge nurse had never worked salary before. So what if she would only be making 60% of what she had been in the wild days of working 24/7? There was no more overtime anyway. She could get away from the new day shift charge and let them stew in their mistake.
HELL YES!
It was the call shift or moving to another hospital and this is the hospital that I’d worked at for 17 years and the electronic health record that I helped build.
HELL NO, I won’t leave the hospital.
The point of the story, 18 months later, I am still working the call shift and have gained at least 50 hours a week of time. Of course, I’ve started a PhD program in my spare time and still have piles of stuff to go through. I’ll get there.
I think I’ll go clean the garage.
June 20, 2023 @ 11:59 am
All the things!! Everything you wrote about, triggered different feelings, new thoughts, questions, and grief.
Sorry for your loss feels so empty.
Missed you like crazy and am thankful your back, for however long it suits you.
June 20, 2023 @ 12:00 pm
Victoria, You are my sister… she was you. I adored her! She was 2 years older and we together were never bored! I am in the process of PURGING hugely as my husband goes through the journey of terminal brain cancer. It helps. I have the sweeet things that matter and the clear space from the things that needed to move along.
I am heart broken for you to have your brother die. The sweet memories will likely over take the grief at some point. I think of you often as I remember the grace, fun and love I had with my sister.
June 20, 2023 @ 12:08 pm
I am so sorry to hear about your brother. I remember reading posts about adventures that you two had together. What a loss for you and your family. I hope you are getting help to get through this.
As far as decluttering …. I find that I have times of accumulating and times of donating. I have come to accept this about myself. It is what it is! Sometimes the thrill of the hunt is my thing … sometimes the rush of decluttering. You do you!
June 20, 2023 @ 12:13 pm
I have that mirror, sans the tape…
But yes, loss causes one to question everything.
June 20, 2023 @ 12:14 pm
My brother died recently too…and I’ve just made contact with a woman in a distant state who has accepted responsibility for a lot of memorabilia I had been storing for a friend of mine who died in 2018 so I’ve had to pack that up and ship it. All of a sudden, at 79, I’m having a similar feeling about the decor items I’ve been storing in two rental storage units for a decade that are starting to be more and more difficult for me to access. I can still do it, but the expense is getting less and less attractive and it is becoming less and less important for me to change my decor out for the seasons in my one-bedroom apartment. I’m making no effort to get any return on my thrift shopping dollars. I’m just donating everything. Let someone else enjoy these things that once gave me joy. Here’s to clearing the decks.
June 20, 2023 @ 12:16 pm
I am so deeply sorry for the loss of your brother. I remember you posting about him before and the fun you all had.
This post about decluttering is something I needed to hear because I have so many dresses I am keeping because “what if it comes back in style?” I really should make things cleaner because you are right, I wouldn’t get rid of it if it’s perfect and I need it.
Never get rid of Narnia. But if SELF makes you, you better call/email me. It’s so amazing and such a treasure should be loved
June 20, 2023 @ 12:20 pm
My condolences for the loss of your loved one. My happiness to you for beginning the journey to find your true center.
June 20, 2023 @ 12:36 pm
Vicoria,
About 20 years ago, my house caught fire and burned….. to the ground. Talk about decluttering! Fast forward another twenty and surprise! I owned more crap than ever. Then Marie Kondo came long and I became an acolyte. Spent days and days purging – especially clothes. If something tugged at my senselessly sentimental heartstrings, I took a picture of it before it went in ‘The Box’. The thinking behind this was that if I were feeling nostalgic for it, I’d look at the picture. Which I’ve never done. Not once. I feel cleaner these days, less burdened. (That said, I once thought I’d lost a favorite pendant necklace, and insanity ensued – some things need to be held close). I love your writing! Keep up the good work, and my condolences for your loss.
June 20, 2023 @ 1:13 pm
Well done!!!!
June 20, 2023 @ 1:13 pm
I am getting better at declutteting but I’m married to a man who is an obsessive keeper of things so when I purge stuff, my junk goes and the vacated space gets populated with his stuff. Help, what do I do that does not involve divorce?
June 20, 2023 @ 1:14 pm
Sorry about your brother. My brother died, then 4 years later I lost my dad. I’m still selling off items from my brother’s estate, which has instilled in me the mission to cull everything that I have so I do not leave this burden for someone else. And like you, you can enjoy your spaces so much more without the anchor of all this unneeded, anxiety provoking belongings to manage.
June 20, 2023 @ 1:16 pm
Victoria I have tears in my eyes as I read your latest email and then the comments ~ you are so loved and appreciated . I lost my older brother a few years ago and still have not come to grips with it , I just figured he’d always be there for me . I am a lifetime hoarder as well and always Intend to cull the chaos sometime soon…. so maybe this lovely story of yours will inspire me to begin . I am so sorry for your loss and will keep you in my prayers .
June 20, 2023 @ 1:18 pm
When I saw the email notification of this post with a brief bit about decluttering of the giant fancy stuff, I was pretty sure you had been hacked. Glad to know that’s not the case! And I am so very sorry about the loss of your brother. I lost my husband last April and still keep wondering when I am going to wake from this nightmare to find him right beside me where he belongs. It hurts and always will. But slowly we manage to start moving forward trying to figure out life without them. Sending hugs and prayers.
June 20, 2023 @ 1:20 pm
I know you hurt. I’m sorry.
Your post was timely for me. We sold our house quickly and packed quickly, without getting to clear out first. I’m doubly committed to NOT putting all that (beautiful, but…) stuff in the new place. It helps that it’s a Craftsman style instead of a European. Good excuse to cull.
Thanks for helping to keep us all on the straight and narrow – in a GOOD way!