If you know me, you know that I am all about organizing. Cleaning out, cleaning up and containerizing--with labels, of course. You all think that I am neat in every area of my life that every nook, cranny and space in my house is exactly the way that I want it. You have this false impression that because I am organized I am not a "keeper". Oh, but I am here to tell you that it is hard for me to let go of stuff.
The 4 bins of off season clothes in the basement tells a different story. Also the unfinished attic, the basement, baskets, and bins and drawers full of stuff. I have trouble letting go of certain things. Scrapbooking stuff I will probably never use, bedding (I know, weird), containers, antique stuff, stuff my kids have made, stuff that used to belong to someone I loved, toys from my children, decorations I might use some day, my own clothes, shoes and jewelry. Those are all areas that I struggle with on a daily basis.
Sunday I helped Zach clean his room--and I mean clean--CLEAN. He was ruthless--he was fearless--I was cringing as he pitched pictures, toys, trinkets, keepsakes, stuffed animals and other stuff. In fact, I am horrible because I rescued clay figures he had made and other stuff I want to show his kids when he grows up. He went through clothes--even if they were newer--I told him it wouldn't offend me if he only kept what he loved and wore--along with his dress clothes--he hates. We cleaned out so much that he has 2 empty shelves and one empty drawer.
Why can't I be like that? I start out that way--I feel fearless as I pitch makeup I haven't worn in years, 10 lipsticks that I bought thinking they were the perfect color only to get them home and find out I hate all of them. I am ruthless as I go through clothes in my closet and take out shirts that I haven't worn all season--only to put them in a bin and put them in the garage for the rummage. Then when I go through them later to mark them I end up pulling stuff out of it because I might wear them one day...ha...I'm laughable.
Recently I started putting clothes in black garbage bags and then having Doug run them as fast as he can to the nearest Salvation Army drop box. That day--sometimes that hour. It feels good to be free.
I'm desperately working myself up to the end all and be all purge of our home. Where I am brave, fearless and ruthless. Where things I have been keeping for years get tossed, donated or sold. Where I will not feel guilty because I paid good money for something that I don't use. I want to be the lady who buys what she needs and only when she needs it. Really, how many people do you know that need 30 short sleeved shirts or 30 turtleneck sweaters. Come on!!! My problem is that I don't know how many is a good amount--5? seems to few. 10? not enough choices. 15--seems like it is pushing too many. ARGH!
The next month I will be doing a lot of soul searching--a lot of figuring out where I want my life to go--what is really important to me--and then letting the rest go. So what if I don't have a sweater for every day of the month. So what if the quilt that I have been saving from Kate's bed for one of the beds for my grandkids gets donated? So what...will it really affect my life poorly if I don't have it in 10 years.
Also I will be rethinking every purchase I want to make. I will be making a list and only getting the stuff that I still "need" in 2 weeks. I only have one thing on my list right now and it is casual brown clogs.
I am going to plan on going through every drawer, box, basket and closet,every bin in our unfinished attic space, every thing in our garage and basement. I need to feel free--I need to keep only what I love and what I use--the rest is just pulling me down. FREEDOM here I come...
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