I had traveled from Michigan to my Winnipeg hometown to help my parents move and say goodbye to the house I grew up in. My brother was hauling my childhood dresser down the driveway, where it was loaded into a stranger’s truck.
“What are you doing?” I demanded hotly.
“What?” He couldn’t fathom why I was angry. “It’s not like you were going to bring it to Michigan!”
I’ve thought many times of that fraught moment, where sentimental me clashed with pragmatic him in our old driveway, with our initials DR and LR etched in cement. I realize now that it wasn’t really about the dresser. It was about me losing the chance to go through the things in my old room and other places in the house that meant so much to me.
Now, faced with my own decluttering journey as we contemplate downsizing in a few years, I realize that removing unnecessary items from my home is a rich, purposeful experience if done right. It is all about owning less, giving things away, and, in the words of minimalist author Joshua Becker, “the intentional promotion of the things we most value and the removal of everything that distracts us from it.”
I didn’t get the chance to declutter my childhood home of things I loved. I decided to do things differently this time.
A Life-Draining, Stuff-Filled Home
At first, decluttering was like emptying a swimming pool with a teacup. I was overwhelmed, and I wasn’t alone. According to Julia Ubbenga, the author of Decluttering Your Home and Heart, a majority of us are overwhelmed with clutter, and most have no idea what to do with it.
Influenced by her wealthy grandmother, Ubbenga used to believe an overriding message of society: “More stuff equals more happiness.”
After marrying and having children, Ubbenga was swamped by too many possessions and too much debt. When she cried out to God for help, he led her to Luke 12:13-21, Jesus’ parable of the rich fool, in which listeners are commanded to not “store up earthly wealth” and thus forego a “rich relationship with God” (NLT). Realizing she had lost her way and become “a cog in the wheel of consumerism,” this Scripture realigned her heart and she began the journey of decluttering. As I have learned during my own home edit, it’s more than just getting rid of stuff and curbing purchases. It’s paying attention to the soul-deep reasons behind the buying and accumulating.
Superfluous Stuff
So much of what we own goes unused. It sits in cupboards and drawers, boxes and closets taking up valuable space. We think we might need it someday, but we rarely do.
I own too much. (So do you.) When this finally sank in, I had a mindset shift. Tons of my stuff—clothes, books, “seasonal door crap” (what my husband calls my festive, seasonal wreaths, etc.)—had to go. I was justifying keeping everything “just in case,” and it was taking its toll.
“The true cost of our excess physical stuff goes well beyond the money we already spent on it,” writes Ubbenga. Superfluous stuff (piles of books and papers and clothes) causes a stress response in our bodies. This leads to feeling flooded, scattered, and tense. “Our physical and mental health is far from optimized in a cluttered environment,” Ubbenga writes. “We were designed for adventure, connection, freedom, space to create, explore and love. We weren’t designed to live surrounded by piles of stuff.”
Where to start, when decluttering a whole house feels impossible?
Many organizing experts suggest setting a timer for five minutes and then depositing everything you no longer love, use, or need into a donation box, which, when full, gets donated to your favorite thrift store.
Some experts recommend starting with one room or even one closet or drawer. I felt lighter and on top of things when I organized the Lazy Susan cupboard in my kitchen. I sorted every lid and container, donated a big bag, and kept only the containers with lids that fit well into the cupboard. This left me with fewer storage options but an easier, more efficient system.
This brings me to another excellent tip, a maxim promoted by Dana K. White, author of Decluttering at the Speed of Life: “Accept the limitations of the space you have, and declutter enough that your stuff fits comfortably in that space.” “Comfortably” is the key word. Books go in the bookshelf only, for example, not in a pile next to it. If it doesn’t fit the space, edit. (I admit, book storage for me is a “work in progress.”)
Also, buy less. Decluttering math: More needs to leave your home each week than comes in.
Once you begin decluttering, you will be amazed at how much less you buy. Try pausing spending for a week or more, buying only necessities. Or strictly apply the “must love, use, or need” rule to every purchase.
Would I Move With This?
I love an idea inspired by Margareta Magnusson, author of The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning. Rather than ask if an item “sparks joy,” ask “Would I move with this?” The answer is a resounding “no” much of the time, especially things crammed into drawers, closets or boxes.
Treasures are by far the hardest things to get rid of: baby clothes and books; gifts from people, especially those now deceased; handwritten letters; small works of art.
Magnusson, who was 85 when she wrote her opus, advises saying goodbye to some items that meant something to you in the past but you have outgrown, savoring their nostalgic charm one more time.
Keep one to represent many. If you have inherited a china cabinet of teapots, pick one to keep, or see if others would like them. Donate the rest.
“Who would enjoy or use this item?” is a question Magnusson advises asking. Her own mother-in-law, who had run a shop of exquisite Japanese imports, “had slowly and unobtrusively given away a lot in a quiet, kind way.” She suggests writing little notes to go with old furniture, paintings, and art objects to increase their heart value, if not their monetary worth.
As I survey my desk right now, I know I will keep (and move with) notes from my late dad, Bookseller Abe. But the Winnie the Pooh collector stamps my parents gave me in 1997? I will give them away to a good home. It’s definitely time.
Own Less, Love More
As my decluttering odyssey continues, dozens of bags and boxes of stuff have left my home, and loads of things remain to be dealt with. Surrounding myself with an excess of material things was not good for my soul, but the Great Edit is. I’m buying less and being more thoughtful about my purchases. I feel lighter, less stressed.
“Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have,” Hebrews 13:5 says. This editing expedition has attuned me to the contentment that comes from God, not material things.
Decluttering is meaningful and weirdly fun. It has helped me bring life back to once-cluttered spaces, let go of things that don’t serve a purpose, and reflect joyfully on the memories that make up my existence. It’s helped me own less and love what I keep more.
Own less, love more? That sounds countercultural, swimming upstream in a consumeristic, stuff-crazy world. I hope that’s true. Most of all, I hope that means I am learning how to be truly rich—rich in what matters.