Living small: Cutting through the clutter

So many books, so little time!

After spending $5 to buy five books at the library's book sale last week, I am now faced with tough choices. Because I live in 600 square feet, I have one self-imposed rule: one new item into the house means one old item from the same category must find a new home. The naked truth: It's time to let go of five old books.

When you live small, too much stuff quickly overwhelms your space. I don't have to look more than three feet from where I sit typing these words to see an example of needing to find space for something new. My lovely flaming dragon roller skates from my fresh meat roller derby tryouts a week ago are still sitting jauntily on the living room floor because I do not have a space to put them. I need to let go of another pair of shoes in my closet to make room for my gorgeous purple dragons.


I am proud of myself for limiting my purchase to only five books when other bibliophiles were filling boxes with books. I'm looking forward to immersing myself in my new book-friends including "The Sea Runners" by Ivan Doig, "Reservation Blues" by Sherman Alexie and "The American Indians: The Woman's Way" by Time-Life Books, which is filled with photos, artwork and stories about Native American women.

A Quaker friend, Wess Daniels, coined my downsizing of December 2011 as my "involuntary simplicity." He was right. That exercise was the antithesis of mindful simplicity. Circumstances beyond my control (being laid off without warning and having two months to sell my house at the real estate market's lowest point and move into 600 square feet) forced me to rid myself of more than half of my possessions in six weeks. It was a painful, but necessary step in my journey.

The process of prioritizing a lifetime of possessions changed me forever. I can't go back to being the woman who held so tightly to things that I missed out on the joy of experiences. When you live in a three-story 2,400-square-foot house with three humungous attics, a basement, a garage and a storage shed, opportunities abound to collect "stuff and junk" as my Grandma Lydia called it. I was the Estate Sale Queen and was always hauling home new treasures.


Now, five moves later, I am the Queen of Downsizing. I practice voluntary simplicity. Friends have invited me into their homes to help them organize their basements and closets and to determine what stuff to let go. It's much easier to help others get rid of their possessions because I have no emotional attachment to their stuff.

But here in my cozy, small living room/study/dining room, it is time to make tough choices. I know I can do it. Six months ago, my adventurous friends Kalyn and Mat MacDonald emptied their house and moved to Alaska. I chose 12 books from their library, which meant I had to let go of a dozen of my books to make space for them.

Now I must do it again. Am I ready to let go of "The Secret Life of Bees" by Sue Monk Kidd or "People of the Book" by Geraldine Brooks? They are among my favorites, but will I read them or refer to them again? I know I am not ready to get rid of my childhood copy of "Trixie Belden," the adventurous, mystery-solving, horseback-riding tomboy who inspired me in my geeky youth. I already let go of a dozen other Trixie Belden books in my big purge. Is it time to release "A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini? Decisions, decisions.

Although my too-many-books dilemma does not possess the life-and-death gravity of Sophie's choice or of Indiana Jones choosing the holy grail, it's still been painful to choose which five books I'm going to let go into the universe.

As I stare at my bookshelves, I hear the voice of the old grail knight: "Choose wisely."

Paring down to the essentials

Why did I keep this bear I bought on a family trip to Yellowstone when I was 10?
What "stuff and junk"  is cluttering your life? 

Opening a plastic bin, I found a little bear souvenir I'd bought on my family's trip to Yellowstone National Park when I was 10. One of the bear's front legs had broken off at the knee (do bears have knees?) and the paint was worn. Why had I kept this memento for decades? I took the bear's photo with my phone and then tossed him in the garbage. Goodbye, Mr. Bruin!

One decision made--and only 99 more and this one bin would be empty. Looking around me at the dozens of bins around me in my storage unit, I shook my head. I was overwhelmed with too much stuff.

How would I ever go through all this "stuff and junk" as my Swedish grandma, Lydia called it? More importantly, how--or why--did I ever accumulate so much stuff?

For almost four years, I've been in a drastically downsizing mode. It started as involuntary simplicity set into motion with my divorce, being laid off at work and then having to sell and empty a large house extremely quickly--a week before Christmas.

I moved five times in less than two years, out of necessity to live within my frugal budget of my new normal. I started with a 2,400 square foot house and continued downsizing, eventually shrinking my footprint to the 540 square feet of Wisteria Cottage, a cute artist's studio with no bathroom, kitchen or heat. It was really cheap and fit my budget. But most of all, it kicked my simplicity into high gear.

The only essentials I purchased for Wisteria Cottage were a mini-fridge and a Luggable Loo--a five-gallon bucket with a toilet seat and lid--for emergencies. Thankfully, I never had to use Loo, but it was comforting knowing she was there, just in case.

In Wisteria Cottage, I would not need a dining table. I'd already given away my best dining table to my friend, Henry two moves before that. I had been using an old garage sale table that once sat in our basement family room of our old house. With the moving truck arriving soon, I didn't have time to Craigslist it. I carried the table to the curb and taped a "FREE" sign to it. Minutes later, it was gone.



Last summer when I downsized to 540 square feet,
I had to let go of this old steamer trunk. These
neighbors were glad to give it a new home.

 

A cumbersome steamer trunk had been a fun antique in my enormous, 90-year-old house, but it would not fit in 540 square feet. I was paring down to the essentials, and the trunk wasn't even useful. It was locked and the key had been lost years ago. It was time for us to part ways. Two young women had moved into the duplex next door recently. I knocked on their door and asked if they'd like an antique steamer trunk. They helped me lug it up my basement stairs and into their living room. Grinning, they sat on the trunk while I took their photo.





This woman was thrilled to help me downsize
by taking this a basket of  dried lavender from my garden

Some stuff--such as an enormous basket of dried lavender from my old garden--I couldn't donate to charity. But I didn't want to throw it away. A woman interested in renting the apartment I was moving out of knocked on the door, so I gave her a tour. She left toting the basket of lavender. Goodbye lavender!

Living simply and mindfully is my new way of life. After four years of paring down my possessions, everything I own fits into my cozy apartment and a 10 x 10 storage unit.

But I still have boxes of stuff I don't need. Yesterday I took a load to Goodwill and spent a couple of hours sorting through boxes of papers and shredding a mountain of old documents. With each paper shredded, each object removed from my life, I breathe a little easier. Never again will I let "stuff and junk" prevent me from living joyfully and simply.

Even after so many moves and drastic changes, I am blessed beyond measure. For the past eight months I've been living in a lovely 600-square-foot mother-in-law suite in the home of friends Michael and Kathleen. Right out my front door I enjoy views of the garden and woods, bunnies and deer. I'm serenaded to sleep by coyotes.

Not only that, my new place has heat, a little kitchenette and a bathroom. I'm using my mini-fridge in my little kitchen. And the Luggable Loo is in my storage unit--just in case. Who knows what challenges are around the next bend? If the Zombie Apocalypse occurs and I need to live in a rustic setting again, I'm ready--and so is Loo!

Tips for paring down to the essentials:

* Keep a "donate" box near the front door. When it's full, take it to your favorite charity.

* Don't keep papers forever. Keep the current month or two. Shred the rest--unless you need them for an itemized tax deduction. Talk to your tax professional before you start a shredding spree.

* Keep your paper shredder in an accessible spot. When you sort your mail, toss papers that must be shredded into the shredder basket. Spend two minutes a day shredding and you'll never have to spend an hour shredding.

* Some people shop as a hobby. If you're serious about reducing clutter, find a new hobby. In my old life, I loved finding treasures at estate sales. In my new, streamlined life, I don't shop for anything unless I actually need something specific.

* Don't bring something home without getting rid of something old. If you buy a new shirt, donate an old shirt you no longer wear.

* It's OK to keep things for sentimental value, but make a distinction between your child's plaster-cast handprint or baby book and a broken souvenir from your childhood.



Little by little, I'm paring down to the essentials.

Control your clutter--don't let it control you

Control your clutter before it overruns your life.

 

Is your life overrun with too much stuff? Are you overwhelmed with trying to unburden yourself?

Do you hold onto stuff with emotional ties? Clothes that are three sizes too small--or too big? Gifts you've never used but might someday?

Do you have bulging closets? Is your garage so stuffed with junk that you can't park a car in there?

Do you own so much stuff that you also pay rent on a storage unit? If so, you're not alone. Did you know that 8.96 percent of all American households currently rent a self storage unit? That's a whopping 10.85 million of the 113.3 million U.S. households in 2012, according to the Self Storage Association.

For six months, I've been plagued with the overwhelming task of downsizing my storage unit from a 10 x 20 unit to a 10 x 10 unit. Slowly but surely, I've been getting rid of stuff I no longer needed.

Every month when I paid my storage bill, I felt guilty. I felt I was wasting money renting a storage unit larger than I needed. But could I really squeeze it down to 10 x 10 feet?

Today, thanks to my friend and neighbor Bruce who pitched in to help me, we did just that. The impetus behind me finally doing this task is that my storage rent is increasing next month. After just a little more than two hours of work, the task was completed.

Most of the remaining stuff is stored in neatly stacked plastic storage bins with lids. I already had all these storage bins, but today I consolidated my stuff so it takes up less space.

As I swept the concrete floor of the empty storage unit, I looked at the cavernous space and hoped I'd never need to store such an enormous amount of stuff again.

We took a load of empty boxes to a nearby U-Haul storefront. Someone who is moving can use those boxes. I don't intend to move anytime soon. Last year, I moved three times in three months. In the past two years, I'd moved five times.

I have a few things to donate, including two throw pillows to a couch I donated three months ago. In December 2011 when I was laid off and had to sell my three story, 2,400-square-foot house, I started a practice of keeping a cardboard "donate" box near the front door or even in the car. It makes it easier to toss in things I no longer need and drop them off to my favorite thrift shop before I talk myself into keeping them.

Now everything I own fits into my 600-square foot apartment or my 10 x 10 storage unit. Even so, I still have too much stuff and will continue to lighten my load.

If I were still carrying the weight of so much stuff I no longer need, would I have found space in my life to reach out and become a new woman unafraid to paddle a dragon boat with the Mighty Women, beat an African drum, swing dance in a crowded pub, belly dance in front of a wall of mirrors and so many other adventures?

Before I pulled down the door on the smaller storage unit, I smiled. That bear of a task is done and no longer can haunt my dreams. Thanks, Bruce!

Simple Gifts

A Shaker song

'Tis the gift to be simple,

'Tis the gift to be free,

'Tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

It will be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gained,

To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed.

To turn, turn will be our delight,

'Til by turning, turning we come round right.

 .