Feng Shui Friday

The things surrounding you in your home serve as subliminal reminders of who you are. They will continue to direct you towards old patterns of behavior. Subconscious beliefs are generally so deep-seated that one is not aware of them.

~ Denise Linn, Feng Shui for the Soul

Well, if there is one thing I need it is new patterns of behavior. And this de-cluttering is addictive. Yesterday I filled the dread voiture to its little metal rafters with boxes and bags to be dropped off this weekend. I also left some stuff on the curb that I was thrilled to see dematerialize as quickly as I left it. Kitchen counters are on their way to being sparkling and clutter-free. Crockpot, Cuisinart, toaster and extra roasting pans? Goodbye to all of that!  Bathroom cabinets are getting closer to minimal after my sister visited yesterday and liberated me of teeth whiteners, sunscreens, serums, scrubs and assorted never-worn makeup products. The kiddo's room is looking more and more like a Montessori classroom, easy to find things and easy to tidy up. And all that plastic garbage handed down from older cousins and well-intending grandparents is starting to slowly, subtly disappear.   




More as I go. For now I'll head to work on the train. I have notebook in hand to jot down thoughts about a culling strategy for the sentimental items. We're a knick-knack-saddled family. But are snowglobes from business trips really a demonstration of my husband's love? There has to be a better way.

1000 Things! It's Going to Be Too Easy.

I'm picking, sorting, packing and I reached at least 75 things this weekend. I am so excited to be in this process. Shedding, getting liberated, feeling light. Pictures of "After" will be coming at the end of the month. In the meantime, here's a small corner of the "During."

100 Things in May Update

I'm deeeep in the thick of this massive decluttering project in la mia casa. So many clothes (so many clothes and yet I mysteriously have nothing to wear), so much good china. So much kitchen stuff. Too many toys, too many books. It's a ridiculous wealth of stuff, but I don't feel rich. I feel like I'm drowning. I'm particularly loathe to get rid of books, and some of them have been useful in this project. 

The Joy of Less is where I read my current mantra for the week:

DON'T ORGANIZE YOUR CLUTTER 

On the topic of storage systems, Francine Jay writes,

But while the containers made my house look shelter magazine-tidy, they didn’t bring me the serenity I’d hoped for. Even though everything was arranged neatly in pretty boxes (cloth-covered, wooden, wicker, plastic, etc.), it was still there.

In reality, all those lovely boxes, bins, and drawers served no higher purpose than to hide my junk. At some point I realized that I wasn’t organizing my life; I was organizing my clutter.

My advice to anyone who feels they need to get organized: declutter first. If you have to, declutter for a year before you start buying fancy boxes and squirreling things away.

Then think long and hard before you put something into a container (especially if it’s not something you use regularly). Because once you give something a warm, cozy abode, it can be hard to get it to leave.

As I go through these boxes we brought with us when we moved here in September, I realize just how much needs to be given away. Today I'm grateful for strong coffee, a sunny morning, the kiddo at the park with his dad, and the energy to get the clutter out.

At the end of this project I will have given away well over 100 things. Maybe I should change course and strive for a goal of only owning 100 things, a la Dave Bruno. Now that's some serious minimalism.

The Dread Voiture

Something wonderful and maybe terrible happened: we were given a car. We had lived so long car-free: me, my whole life, and for my husband it had been at least 15 years. Now we have one and our beautiful life of daily walking and knowing our neighbors and daily shopping for the freshest foods is perhaps threatened. Will we become the kind of people who drive 10 blocks to the park on a rainy day? Or will we continue to splash our way east the 15 minutes it takes to walk, all soggy hair and drippy boots and loving the way it feels to live in the weather? Will we rush to school in the car or will we remember to make time, leave early, and walk that mile first thing in the morning, maybe stopping for coffee in a paper cup, maybe riding on the back of the stroller--scooter style-- for the last two blocks before the mad rush to another day at school? Will we still shop at the farmer's market twice a week, carrying only what fits in our canvas bags and what stacks on the seat of the scooter-stroller?

I don't know. One thing I do know is that we have grown accustomed to every day being like that special market day many people in less walkable cities and towns only dream of. We don't shop for sport, and if we did we would be very lucky: we live in a place where our options extend beyond chain groceries and big box stores. We have shade trees and good buses and wide bike lanes. There are independent books stores, non-chain coffee shops and organic options as far as the eye can see. We have hills and a beach and, across the bridge, all the culture we could ask for, for the price of bus fare.

Without trying we live many of our dreams daily. I don't want to give that up for the convenience of getting there faster and in our own little metal world.

But one thing that the car does provide that we didn't have before is the ability to cull our stuff ruthlessly. We no longer have to wait for one of those monthly charity donation trucks to come by and take away the stuff we thoughtlessly let into our homes and our life. Now we can pack it all up and drive it to the nearest Goodwill. So today, between fundraising, craft-selling, and margarita-drinking, we began a huge purging project. The goal is to box up and donate 100 things this month. I'm calling it 100 Things in May and I'm excited to see the final outcome. Updates and photos tomorrow!