Sometime after my move, I started following organizing guru Julie Morgenstern on Twitter. Reality set in after I closed out my storage unit and put all those boxes in my office, my art studio, and my new home.
Up until then, I had followed a careful plan J. developed to keep me from getting upset. You see, each time I visited the storage unit I would wind up crying. The amount of stuff was physically overwhelming, for one; and for two, it represented so many expectations about my life that were now disappointed. Leaving the way I did, things were just flung into boxes by the movers - vitamins were as likely to be packed with shoes as they were with other vitamins. Everything had to be touched.
And it was certain that jags of sadness would be random. I did pretty well until I came across fabrics the girls and I used to sew their quilts - T.'s "Mod/Punk" duvet cover and T.'s quilt she made for her freshman year of college. I love them so much, you see, and we had so much fun together. (I know now that we will continue our fun times.)
There was a part of me that could have just closed the door on everything and walked away forever. But I had thousands of dollars worth of art supplies in there; even I couldn't do that. J. 's strategy was a good one: 1) H. was not go to the storage unit by herself (we learned by experience it wasn't good; 2) He had me stay outside storage unit and then brought 2-3 boxes out at a time for sorting - Good Will or Home. 3) We brought only 5-6 boxes at a time back home and went and got more when those things were put away.
Finally, the unit emptied to the point where I tired of paying the rent. We brought it all home; and it's been chaos ever since.
I avoided the office for weeks until I finally acknowledged that it was just like paying rent on another kind of storage unit; it had to be dealt with. I'd "channel" Julie Morgenstern when I go in (and the FlyLady) and I'd spend the first fifteen minutes of every workday dealing with stuff. It helped that my sister and I had cleaned out my mother's office earlier this year - basically every piece of paper she'd ever saved went in the garbage. Her life's work if you want to think of it like that. I flung lots of stuff. The office is in the home stretch. I can finally go in there and not feel overwhelmed. I have one box of tax files left that just need to be put in a file drawer.
Home is a different story. The art studio (see above) has gone through waves of improvement but is now at a standstill. The door is closed most days because I can't bear to work on it and it's too messy to work in. Every time I try to find something; something else falls down on me. The same with my closet. And I've given bags, and bags, and bags, of things away. But there is still much to do. I'm collapsing two modern-size homes into one Civil War-era row house. I have five coffee makers. A $400 dog bed and no dog.
After interacting with Julie Morgenstern on Twitter a little bit, I went to her website and found a book called SHED. This book is FOR ME. For people burdened by their attachment to things because they belong to something. Morgenstern says,
"...submerged in that pile of stuff, is an old, no longer relevant belief system that you are still holding on to for some reason...all of the stagnant objects and behaviors in our lives represent something to us -- someone we used to be, or wanted to become, something we once believed about ourselves or the world, or a different time in our lives. The clutter becomes a very literal clue to that old belief system; something tangible you can examine and expunge."
That's totally me. It's more than just getting rid of stuff. It's figuring out why you are holding on to it and then identifying what needs to be let go of so you can move forward. I've always thought of objects having "pollution;" the anthropology of....my Grandma used that basket (see basket on right hand side of photo above); Gay gave me that fruit bowl...that's a photo of Kathy's baby...I have to hold on to it.
After reading my relevant sections, I was surprised to find that one of the things I really wanted at this phase in my life was career success; above and beyond what I've had in the past. I was always working at less than my capacity in Montana; trying not to be too smart and greatly limited in my earnings because I lived with someone who [simply put] was threatened by my education and thought what I did for a living was a waste of time. Though I managed to keep working and do reasonably well, I felt like I parked my broken down potential at the side of the road six years ago and never went back to tow it home.
I have been telling myself this summer that I just need a few new projects to get motivated but the reality is, once I acknowledged to myself that I wanted to be successful at my career - not just in money terms but in recognition for my intelligence - I snapped into focus. Morgenstern says to evaluate objects in your life according to their ability to support your goal. I pushed paper through my office on Friday like it was on fire because I suddenly had achieved clarity about what each thing meant relative to my future.
On the way home I stopped by a consignment store and dropped off a bag of clothing I've been driving around since June. Believe me, they could barely contain their enthusiasm for my designer duds. And I have two more trash bags full to give them on Monday. It helps that I've lost a little weight, but what helps the most is just the full frontal acknowledgment that I don't want to wear those clothes anymore for what they represent. Expensive? Maybe. But I guess I've been doing that, already, in a passive-aggressive way - wearing two or three outfits I bought at Kohl's this year - but perhaps it really is o.k. to just get rid of most of it and start over; keeping only what I really want and purchasing the items that fit my new home and my new life.
Which seems to be about keeping it relaxed, creative, happy, and productive. Versus stressful, chaotic, and overwhelming to manage. And I still have my girls. I posted on Facebook the other night that I feel like I've stepped through a portal: I don't want to wear the same things; I don't eat the same food; I don't write the same way, even. But I feel like I'm a better version of myself. That's a very good thing.
So....my closet and art studio are next.
One corner at a time.
Posted by: teent | October 30, 2011 at 08:31 AM
Very inspiring, Heidi. Thank you. I have so much clutter I need to deal with. My craft room is an absolute wreck. I feel surrounded and overwhelmed by clutter all the time. I know FlyLady, but I've been ignoring her. I need to do the 15 minute thing - I mean why not? It's so doable. And sounds like you've got a really good man there. So happy for you!
Posted by: Sarah | October 31, 2011 at 05:01 AM