“The best way to find out what we really need is to get rid of what we don’t.”
Marie Kondo
I have always enjoyed organizing. I love creating systems for things that make life simpler and bring common sense solutions to everyday living. I joke (but know that I am so serious) that one of my favorite places to go is the dump. I’ve been so enough times that they know me there! In my opinion, there is nothing more freeing than throwing all that is meaningless and without value away, once and for all. Off you go, into the abyss that is a ginormous dumpster.
That is until you ask me to get rid of something sentimental. Things I’ve attached meaning and value to.
I turn 50 this year, and one of the things I have come to realize is that having lots of stuff is entirely overrated. We spend the first half of our lives growing our families and acquiring all of the things we need, or think we need, to do that. And then we spend the second half of our lives downsizing and trying to get rid of it all!
When my husband and I were newly married, we “decided” it would be fun to have 3 babies in 4 years. Besides getting married, our children were the best decisions we ever made. Any parent will tell you that if you try and wait until you are financially prepared to have children, you never will. So, we didn’t wait! And we were not financially prepared!
But, with a lot of support we figured it out, just like everybody else. We also figured out that three kids sure can accumulate a lot of stuff. It wasn’t long before we decided that our days consisted of too much “picking up and putting away”. We also started to notice a pattern. There seemed to be a direct correlation between more toys and more fighting, more chaos, more discontent.
So . . . we decided they had to go. The toys, not the kids.
We tried a couple different processes to make that happen. Some with great success and others, not so much. One, which I’m sure many of you already implement, was choosing a limited number of toys to have available. We would store the rest in a big bin in the garage and reintroduce them into the mix every so often. It was like Christmas each time they got to play with a toy they hadn’t seen in a while.
For me, stuffed animals were what always pushed me over the edge in the toy department. The dust, the germs, the space they took up. All of it. There was no way we could continue to house them all. But if you think a 5, 4, and 3 year old are just going to sit quietly and let you take their “friends” away, well then you are as sadly mistaken as I was.
At first, I tried dissuading them from any meaning they thought they had attached to the whole pile of misfits. “You guys don’t even play with any of these animals. They’ve been at the bottom of your toy bin for a very long time.”
Needless to say, they were unmoved. Have you even been stared down by a toddler? Do not, under any circumstances, look them directly in the eye. If you do, you have already lost. They finally broke their silent gaze that unanimously and unapologetically said, “And? Your point?”, as if they had discussed it ahead of time. They went back to playing as if I hadn’t said anything at all. Ignoring me was their way of letting me know they would not be made to feel guilty or neglectful without their own consent.
Next, I foolishly thought that I could challenge them in the form of a game. If they could tell me who gave them each stuffed animal, they could keep it. I thought for sure I had them. I mean how could they justify keeping something when they didn’t even know where it came from?
The older two were smug, and not at all sorry about it, as they rambled off names and occasions on which they had received each and every item. I was even outwitted by the 3 year old, clearly gifted with both name association and the memory of an elephant.
When the game ended, we were keeping just as many animals as we had started with.
Unbelievable.
I had no one to blame but myself. Living 3,000 miles away from my entire family, I had a tendency to place extraordinary (unreasonable) value on anything tangible they sent our way. It didn’t matter if it was a handwritten note, a pair of socks, or a piece of jewelry. I made a big deal out of all of it. Everything was extra special because of who it came from.
Those “things” were special because they were representative of relationships. They could be present with us when family couldn’t be.
I suddenly understood part of why they were having such a hard time getting rid of the toys. Some of it was because they were little, and when you’re little everything is “mine”. But another big reason became apparent when I realized their resistance to letting anything go was because of the precedent I had set. I had unintentionally placed value on mere things, but that in actuality can only be realized in relationships.
It was an “aha” moment for me. The answer behind the “why” question.
Missing my family caused me to hold on so tightly to anything that made me feel close to them. And I wanted so badly for my children to grasp how important these relationships were, not just to me, but to them as well. Family is our first community. I wanted them to learn from a very young age that there were so many people that loved them, whether we saw they every day or not. I wanted them to know they were part of something so much bigger than themselves.
That would have been a big ask of anyone in the 3-5 year age bracket. This wasn’t their problem, it was mine. I knew it was important to teach them to keep “stuff” in its proper place in life. But the reality was it was never about the stuff. The real issue was the misconception behind what the stuff represented.
I realized I was afraid I was getting rid of memories when I was getting rid of things.
Of course, that wasn’t true. There had to be a way to hold on to the feeling an item represented and simultaneously be okay with not needing to keep it forever. To not fear losing the gift while remembering the thoughtfulness of the giver. We needed to figure out a way to not to be prisoners of our things.
We needed to learn how to let go.
After giving it some thought, I realized that anytime I found out someone needed something I had, giving it away was easy. I wanted to tap into that idea and pass it on to my kids. The idea that many times our resources can meet someone else’s need. I knew there had to be a way to help them “grieve” their stuffed animals while realizing the joy that comes in giving things to others.
So, I suggested we make a memory album. I would let them decide which stuffed animals they were willing to part with and take a photo of each one prior to it being placed in the donation pile. This made sense to their hearts. They immediately started making choices. Every once in a while, they would linger while holding a certain animal and you could see a visible, internal struggle of wanting to hold on a little longer. But more often than not, they would place the animal in the give away pile.
That’s all it took. Finding a way to preserve the memory of someone they loved. Having something they could hold onto that proved they had existed. That they were a part of their lives, even if they no longer were physically with us. And it was enough.
Just like that, a 4’ x 4’ pile was reduced to the size of a 4” x 6” photo album. They knew that anytime they missed one or several of the special friends, they could glance through the album and remember. But you know what? They didn’t. They found so much joy in the “letting go” once their focus was on all the kids that were going to be the new owners of their old friends. They didn’t bring them up again.
The joy was enough.
There is nothing wrong with holding on to items that have sentimental significance. But when deciding what to keep, we need to remember that the value of our relationships is not tied to items exchanged in those relationships. Instead, the real value is the love exchanged between those we are in relationship with. We need to “let go” of the idea that we are somehow letting go of people, by letting go of things those people gave us.
That idea may sound crazy to some of you, but many of you will know exactly what I’m talking about. Professional organizers will tell you that getting people to part with things that are attached to their memories are the hardest.
Taking photos of things is a way I have continued to be able to say “good-bye” to items while preserving those items in a tangible, yet much smaller space. Instead of multiple boxes in the garage full of school projects, greeting cards, and knick-knacks that have been passed down or given to me throughout the years, I have beautiful photos (with inscriptions on the back) to remember them by instead.
What do you need to let go of today? What do you have that somebody else might need? You can hold onto memories while simultaneously letting go of things. Our homes may be lacking space, but our hearts and minds have unlimited storage.
That’s where the joy is. And it’s more than enough.
Matthew 6:19-20 19 “Don’t store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them and rust destroys them, and where thieves break in and steal. 20 Store your treasures in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal. 21 Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be.
Photo by Marina Shatskih on Unsplash
https://psychcentral.com/blog/obstacles-that-stop-us-from-decluttering-and-how-to-overcome-them/
https://www.realsimple.com/home-organizing/organizing/sentimental-clutter?slide=13005#13005
hindsight 