Friday, January 14, 2011

A big step

For this would-be hoarder I took a big step today. I took my dresser from my childhood bedroom to the Salvation Army, so it could "bless" a family that really needed it. There is no room for it in my house and it was taking up space in the studio. And I remember during the renovation I clung to that dresser and kept it in the hall, leaving one foot of space to get around it. I clung to my childhood. I couldn't get rid of it because... I might need it some day... if we created a guestroom I could put it there... because I used to sit at it as a teen-ager and mope about how horrible it was to be a teenager. Whoa, all that crazy karma and I still wasn't able until now, at age 55, to give it up.
The hard part was giving it away without the mirror. I looked high and low and in the barn and shed and the mirror was nowhere to be found. I have/had/have this completeness thing, thinking that I can't give something away until I find all the pieces to it. I am having it with one of my son's toy sets. Until I find the scarecrow piece, urgh, it just doesn't feel right to send it away.
But I gave away the dresser. And if the scarecrow doesn't show up soon, the toy is traveling light.
I am half afraid I'm going to end up with nothing in the house except some very nice pillows.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Connelly to all the extraneous "stuff" in my life: Go away!

It started with a friend recommending the book, "Stuff," by Randy Frost and Gail Steketee, about compulsive hoarders. I read the book, fascinated, realizing as I got deeper and deeper into the book that I share a lot of the traits of people who fill their houses with piles and piles of stuff.
Emotional attachment to inanimate objects? Check. Collection of art supplies in the belief that the supplies will make me an artist? Check. Ice skates never worn for 25 years? Check. Pieces of papers filling and falling off my bulletin board because I thought if I couldn't see the information I would forget it? Check.
Fortunately over the years I have had several painful but useful "interventions" that kept our house from overflowing. Like after buying "Clearing your Clutter with Feng Shui," when I went an emptied all the stuff from behind all the doors in the house. Like the time Dave and Laura stayed with us and picked up a four year old bouquet of moldy dusty pussy willows and asked if I really really needed to keep them around, and kept asking questions like that. Like the time the contractors took the entire contents of the attic over the garage and put it in the driveway and said, "OK, decide what you're going to keep and what you're going to put in the dumpster. It's gonna rain in three hours.
Since I've read the book I've been making a lot of painful (to me) decisions about things kept "just in case," and things I "might use someday." And clothes that belonged to my grandmother and dresses not worn in 40 years. And eyeglass cases. And bags of t-shirts kept 37 years. And unused frying pans. And empty sketchbooks. And riding boots. Sigh.
I never got to the state where my house was unusable. Looking back, before the feng shui book, I realize my bedroom was cluttered and piled high with stuff on top of the dressers. And bookcases with books too heavy on sagging shelves. Not now, though.
I am learning to look straight at an object and try to evaluate the emotional hold it has over me. I ask what is the likelihood of someone asking me to ride a horse on a moment's notice. Or me taking up a jumprope routine. Or figure skating. I tell myself that if the opportunity truly arises then I will go get another pair. In the meantime my closet is not filled with unused and slightly moldy shoe leather! But the Stuff book says that decision-making is hard for people with these tendencies. And that it's really tiring to think about this stuff. It's true; I am exhausted.
But we are starting the new year with the vow to rid our house of clutter. We even toasted on New Year's Eve with a bottle of wine we had been "hoarding" for our entire marriage. Waiting to drink it when we got married, bought a house, had our first child.... but never got round to it. And by the time we did, although the BV 1962 George Latour private reserve was mildly drinkable (more a port than a cab sav) it had been kept past its usefulness. And that was a shame.
So we toast to a new attitude, for making space in our lives for new adventures, but not new things!
Happy New Year!