A Cluttered House Is A Cluttered Life

                  A while back I talked about hoarding and my denial of any such behavior in “I Am Not A Hoarder, I Just Like to Collect Things”.  Instead, I referred to myself as a collector. At the time it made sense. Collectors collect things so they can put them on display for people to see. And I certainly have my share of tchotchkes adorning my shelves. Remember my collection of shot glasses filled with sand from beaches all over the world? If not, here’s a reminder:

 But I also hold onto things that are NOT for public viewing. These items—papers, cards, photos, old notepads, magazines, etc—lie scattered throughout my apartment, shoved in decorative boxes to mask the mess that is hidden within.  I also have TWO file cabinets jam packed with things that at some point I thought I needed badly enough to store away. Back then, I joked about how proud  I was to be a pack rat. And I will admit, reading my past words, I almost convinced myself. However, upon further reflection, I recognize by calling myself a collector and poking fun at my various “collections”, I was minimizing potentially toxic behaviors and enabling them to continue. So while I still attest I am NOT a hoarder, I am, in fact, a clutterbug. And there is a difference. Read on.

                  Clutterbugs differ from hoarders in that they can rationally look at the objects in their life and assess their usefulness. Hoarders obsess about their possessions and can’t decide what is and isn’t valuable, and thus often retain garbage or damaged items. Hoarders seem to be completely unaware of the dangers of their hoarding tendencies, while clutterers are often bothered by their random piles of “stuff”. Yay! I’m bothered! There’s hope for me!

                  I recently confessed to my friend that I wanted to start eliminating the clutter from my life. (It should be noted that this is the same friend who originally accused me of being a hoarder). Well my confession was music to his ears. I came home one night to discover ALL of my books ALL over my living room floor. He had also disassembled one of my bookcases, which was on the verge of collapsing from the sheer weight of its contents. Upon seeing my books laid out in various stacks, I almost started crying. How could he DO this to me? I wanted to take baby steps, not tackle everything all at once! I felt so overwhelmed. But then I realized that sometimes you have to pull the bandaid off forcefully and feel the sting. And it stung! It was very emotional going through books that I had on my shelves for literally years. And many were books that I still loved. But did I really NEED them? Am I really ever going to read the Twilight series again? Or the Hunger Games? And what the hell was “Eat, Pray, Love” still doing on my shelf anyway? I never could manage to make it past India. (Spirituality motivated by a healthy book advance is definitely not what I consider inspiring.) Time to purge! I felt proud to put so many books into a donation box and condense my books into one less bookcase.

                  But that’s only the beginning. What about those two file cabinets? What the heck is in there? (Cover letters for submissions dating back to before the millennium apparently). And what about those shot glasses filled with sand? It seemed cute and kitschy at the time, but why was I doing it in the first place and is it something I want to continue? Do I even like that miniature ceramic teapot sitting on my shelf that my mom got at someone’s Bar Mitzvah? Why do I still have that magazine with the cast of the “Big Bang Theory” on the cover??? I don’t think there’s necessarily a right or wrong answer to any of these questions, but you at least have to ASK yourself and see what answers come. When you’re a clutterbug, piles just seem to mysteriously show up without you even noticing it. It’s critical to determine which piles are the ones to keep and then find a freaking place to put everything so it’s no longer in a pile!

                  It’s been said if you clutter your physical life with unnecessary items, your emotional life is bound to feel cluttered too. And now that I am making my way through my own clutter, I tend to agree. Letting go of things is hard, but at the end of the day they are just THINGS—physical manifestations of my memories and feelings. Throwing something out does not take away what I feel inside. Maybe it even makes my feelings more special because they’re not attached to some random object sitting in my apartment for no good reason.

                  I’m not planning on rolling a dumpster into my apartment and depositing everything into it, if that’s what anyone is thinking. But I DO believe I can take stock of exactly WHAT I have and then determine what I truly need AND want. It’s not always easy to figure that out. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. I’m just in the beginning phases now, but I will keep you posted on my progress. Here’s the end result of my bookcase reorganization:

Not bad, right? Now I have to tackle my desk… my sanctuary for everything creative. Somehow I have a feeling that will be harder than my books but I think I’m ready to take the plunge! Geronimo!!!