I tried Marie Kondo, but it didn’t quite work for me.
You might know her as the queen of decluttering, spotless surfaces, beautiful spaces with everything in its place. For Marie, there is a specific order to the tidying process, one that works up progressively from easy (clothes) to hard (random, sentimental things). When I dutifully read and applied her “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up” from cover to cover, what I found was that while I donated 45 pairs of shoes, filled up a car full of clothes for the local Vinnies and saw empty shelves in my wardrobe for the first time since I was 8, it was not able to transform my life as it promised. Even though I did see some progress, I was still holding onto the years of unfulfilled dreams, unrealised hopes, and seasons of life that remained without closure. The clothes and belongings I wrestled with held the emotional weight of experiences both lived, and hoped for.
While some dresses practically walked themselves to the door, others evoked a visceral response disproportionate to their usefulness. They did not spark joy, but rather caused a spiral of what ifs and maybes. Why is it so hard to let go of something that hasn’t materialised? Why did I feel emotionally drained by tidying? As I reflected on my decluttering struggles, I realised that the drawer isn’t about the actual items at all, but rather the life or person those items represent.
Do we need to let it go?
Nick Wignall (The Friendly Mind) says that letting go is about managing your attention and not continuing to focus on something unproductive.
That could mean letting go of the need for control and allowing yourself to feel the emotion of anxiety that comes with being out of control. That could mean letting go of the need to put up a persona by accepting the feeling of rejection that comes with not being liked. That could mean letting go of a need to strive for perfection by recognising that it no longer serves you or those around you. That could mean letting go of resentment or anger (or waiting for an apology) by focusing on the fact that there are two sides to every story. By tolerating our uncomfortable feelings of anxiety, rejection and anger rather than trying to fix or avoid them develops our ability to refocus our attention on what we really want and allows us to reflect about the deeper whys when we are in a calmer place (Caroline has a book for that).
Holding onto an old you
At least once a week, Facebook prompts me to re-live a memory, typically consisting of a photo, story or other post with very little timeline context. Recently, it brought up a memory with a friend who I shared a deep connection with for a season, and have since let go of regretfully. It provoked a lingering sadness for the rest of the day as I went through anger, blame, regret, disappointment and finally acceptance of my choice to move on. When that memory came up, I could have deleted it (avoidance), unfriended that person (solution), or switched to a game on my phone (distraction). It was only by stopping to sit in those negative feelings that I could accept my decision to move on and to let that relationship go.
Holding onto a “maybe someday” you
Since Marie Kondo didn’t work, I also tried out Dana White’s “Decluttering at the Speed of Life”. Dana is a self confessed slob that struggles to get rid of things to the extent that when she was looking for a house, she had a criteria for an eBay room so she could keep all the things she might be able to sell for profit. She pointed out that when your room is full of “maybe someday” things, there is no space left for living your current life. Only after the unfinished 1000 piece jigsaw is packed away does the dining table become available for a meal with friends. For me, it was only when I finally threw out those bags of clothes that will never fit again, that I could have enough space in the closet for clothes that let me live in the present.
Saying yes to something means saying no to something else
When my boss at work asked me to work late for an evening product launch, I readily volunteered to be on site at 9pm. While it went well, I recognize that my yes to work was also a no to my partner and my kids. Sometimes the yes comes easily in the moment, and yet after many moments, each yes starts to come with a mix of guilt, doubt and resentment. Those uncomfortable feelings revealed that it was time to let the expectation that I can be all things to all people, all the time, go. It is in saying no, even when that brings uncomfortable feelings that allow you to say yes to something else better.
As a follower of Jesus, I am reminded of how much God draws me close when things are really difficult. Psalm 23 is a beautiful song written by King David about God providing for him through good times and difficult times. He writes “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me”(Psa 23:4). David was a man who knew those uncomfortable feelings of fear, loneliness, darkness, rejection, betrayal and yet he knew that he was never without God’s presence and comfort in those moments. When I think about the story of God’s son, Jesus coming to earth as a human being, I see a man who felt grief, betrayal, pain and anger. When I’m afraid to admit I feel anxious about how my work hours are affecting my relationship with my preschooler, I feel Jesus understands me so fully because he knew life as a human being. Even better still, when I feel the pressure to be all things to all people, all of the time, I remember that Jesus knows the real me, and loves and accepts me. That is incredibly comforting.
I still haven’t quite decluttered my home. I suspect this struggle to get my hoarding under control will last me a lifetime. Now when I feel my mess starts to overwhelm me, I shift my focus to what I value the most, and I make choices accordingly. Even if those do not involve me doing the dishes immediately, I know I am not alone in my uncomfortable feelings. I have accepted the anxiety that my clutter brings, and let go of my expectation that everything has to be finished before I can go to bed. I never thought I’d say it, but funnily enough, seeing the last few dishes remain in the sink at night sparked a tiny little bit of joy. I had found freedom in letting go of the doing.
Questions
Are you a collector?
What do you collect?
What do you think is driving your desire to collect things?
Can you think of a recent life event that triggers strong emotions for you?
Is there something you need to let go of?
What will help you to let go?
