Garbage. All I’ve been thinking about all week is garbage. I just can’t stop thinking about it.
~ sex, lies, and videotape (1989)
When I think about garbage, I think about clutter. Clutter makes me crazy. It’s beyond a sensitivity to it, I have a full-blown allergic reaction – paralytic wooziness. I can’t stop thinking about the clutter. It’s making my head hurt. It’s time for spring cleaning.
Over the years I’ve condensed the process to two questions:
Do I love it?
Do I need it?
They demand ruthless honesty and they effectively cut through the constraints of sentimentality. They keep the process simple.
Do I love this collection of souvenir fridge magnets? Not any more. I have photos and memories of the trips, I don’t need every tchotchke. Next! Do I need this novelty stove top espresso maker that only makes one shot? I love it, but I don’t need it. I have two other stove top espresso pots, which I do need! (Sometimes, I purge in installments.) Next!
Closets. The two questions are perfect for purging the closet. They have freed many ‘scores’ from the purgatory of my hangers. Note: It’s not a deal if you never wear it. Thank you Crossroads and Buffalo Exchange for helping me recoup some of my losses.
This year’s spring clean is more of a challenge. Most of my personal effects are still in Los Angeles. In storage. Groan. I’m currently trying to decide what it’s time to say goodbye to and what is worth shipping across the continent. It’s created a third purge question. If I’ve forgotten I had it, why keep it?
Deep breathe. This is huge. I’ve started a list of things to facilitate the process: things I love, things I need, things I can easily replace. There are boxes of stuff that I haven’t seen in nine months, there are things I’ve forgotten. What happens when the forgotten thing triggers sentimental attachment? Like a mother being reunited with her long abandoned baby, will I crave the lost relationship and clutch tighter now it’s back within my grasp?
To be continued.
0 Comments