Decluttering

Boise Donation Resources

Hi all, Cary here!

Today I wanted to share some of my top resources for where to drop your post-decluttering donations in Boise.

I’ve been working on growing this list for the past few years, but I also know that it took us the better part of a decade to secure our dozens of donation partners in the Bay, so please email me if you have additional suggestions.

The impetus for this post was the recent gathering of over 800 brilliant, accomplished, and civic minded folks at the 2019 Women and Leadership Conference here in Boise over the past week.

Two of the keynote speakers were none other than Obama’s Director of Communication, Jennifer Palmieri, and the former Secretary of the Interior and current CEO of The Nature Conservancy, Sally Jewell. It was basically a trifecta of three of my favorite things: Obama, communications, and the environment. To say I was fangirling hardcore would be an understatement:)

I also had the immense honor of speaking to over two hundred of the attendees at two different sessions on Thursday.

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I was just blown away by how open, wise, and curious both audiences were, not to mention how thoughtful their questions were. One question that I received several times (as I shared just how crucial Kyle and I believe donating to be to the decluttering process) was, “This sounds amazing. Where can I bring ______ here in Boise?”

So, as promised to my beautiful attendees, I’m excited to share my current list below!


BOISE DONATION RESOURCES

The ARC: Clothing, accessories, books + media, housewares, and toys.

BabySteps: Infant and young child clothing, diapers, wipes, kid cups/plates/bottles/bibs, baby toys, young child furniture.

Book It Forward!: New or gently used children’s books and text books.

Big Brothers, Big Sisters: Sports equipment, board games, and craft supplies.

Dress for Success: Women’s professional clothing such as blouses, dress slacks, skirts, suits, dress shoes and accessories in petite, regular, and plus sizes.

Habitat for Humanity: Appliances, building materials, cabinets and furniture, décor and flooring, decorative hardware, electrical, lawn and garden, millwork and doors, paint sundries, plumbing fixtures & hardware, tools & accessories, and windows.

Idaho Youth Ranch: Sports equipment, clothing, appliances, electronics, toys, yard equipment, decorations, houseware, furniture. In short, almost everything.

Interfaith Sanctuary: dental hygiene, razors, diapers, toilet paper and more.

The Library!: books, records, DVDs, CDs, audiobooks, software, and magazines in good, sellable condition.

The Reuse Market: Paper, fabric and notions, artist’s mediums, mat board, framing, sign making, architecture/design materials, office/school supplies, media/tech, metal, and wood.

The Reuseum: Computers, consumer electronics, industrial machinery, spare parts, robots, spacecraft, and flux capacitors.

Women’s and Children’s Alliance: generally, WCA is in need of bedding, towels, toiletries, and toys, but please check here for their current wishlist, which is updated weekly.




5 Decluttering Tips You Won't Find in Marie Kondo’s “Tidying-Up” method

5 Decluttering Tips You Won't Find in Marie Kondo’s “Tidying-Up” method.

Marie Kondo’s Netflix series, “Tidying Up” is another cultural phenomenon!  We love that Kondo has taken to the screens of aspiring minimalists everywhere.  No matter where one are on their journey towards an intentional lifestyle, more exposure to the philosophies of decluttering means more people thinking twice about their consumption habits which means progress towards the paradigm shift required to live as a sustainable species here on planet Earth!  We have lofty purpose-driven goals over here at New Minimalism.

Back in 2015 when Marie Kondo’s book, The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up first came out Cary and I were thrilled to witness the widespread public interest that followed.  We had been practicing our method of decluttering for a few years at that point, and when Cary and I would describe the work we did at New Minimalism, we would be met with puzzled looks.  Contrast that to the reaction after Kondo’s book began to circulate, and it was like night and day. “Decluttering” had become a familiar, household word that stimulated a ton of conversation. From the beginning we affectionately described Marie our “Japanese spirit sister” (we are officially fans!).  But there are some super important aspects where the KonMari process falls short.  Below we’ve described the five decluttering tips that you won’t find in the Kondo method.

Enjoy!


1. The promotion of environmentalism and removing toxins from your home.

Kim Warp, The New Yorker, April 2019

Kim Warp, The New Yorker, April 2019

Obligatory rant: We started this company because we care about the planet and know that consumption rates are a considerable part of the equation.  Sustainability imbues every part of our business: We donate and repurpose everything that can be, even the unexpected items: art supplies and office paper are donated to a local school; food goes to a local soup kitchen; we even connected with a local organization who gladly accepts pre-owned socks that are clean and in good condition! 

Halllllo?! It’s 2019. If you haven’t read the news, we are literally drowning in plastic. The fact that Marie Kondo overlooks any sort of environmental stewardship in her process is shocking to us because it is the #1 reason that motivates us to do what we do at New Minimalism.  

The piles of plastic bags filled with garbage and donations in the TidyingUp show makes our hearts hurt.  Single-use plastic bags are a BIG “no, no” in our world. Instead, you can use a use a large bin that you have on-hand and simply take the bin back with you after wards.  We also use large paper “lawn” bags and cardboard boxes when we can’t repurpose what is on-hand at the client’s home.  We promote cleaning products that are free of fragrance (not laced with endocrine-disrupting fake fragrances). Curious about that last sentence? Open this link to watch a 7-min. "Story of Cosmetics" video on the subject … after you finish reading this, of course!


Thankfully the KonMari process doesn’t promote buying new containers and instead advises to use what you have.  But we wish that there was discussion of material choice and the importance of whether an item can be donated, repurposed, recycled, or composted.


2. “staging” should be orderly and systematic.

This type of staging is hive-inducing for most!

This type of staging is hive-inducing for most!

The first step of the New Minimalism decluttering process is “staging”. This is when you pull everything out that belongs to a particular category from where its been hiding in various parts of your home — for clothing you grab your jackets from the front closet, the ski clothes from the attic, the t-shirts in your dresser and anywhere else clothing might be.  At New Minimalism we stage items in a super methodical and organized way, so as to not overwhelm the client and increase the feelings of chaos that likely already exist in abundance. We neatly stack all pants together to make the decision-making process for the client more approachable — it is easier for your brain to understand what you have. You can easily pull out your never-fail-guiding-light-favorite jeans to compare them to the less-than-ideal / ill-fitting / tired AF jeans. 

An orderly start also initiates the process of respecting the object by placing it with care in an orderly way. Rather than pile your mattress high with a mountain of every single piece of clothing you own and then pick away at it piecemeal, we think systematic and orderly staging is a vital component to tackling your decluttering projects.


3. The indispensable value of an outsider’s perspective

“Oh, now you need to make a ton of difficult decisions? See ya later!” Marie and her assistant leave the client for the hardest part! Decision-making is often the most difficult part of decluttering and is usually why a client has hired us in the first place.  I can’t imagine piling the bed high with a mountain of clothing and then saying, ok BYE!  Good luck! We are there to guide the decision-making and help the client see their blindspots that got them into this mess in the first place! If you can’t hire us, you can trick a friend into helping you! Having someones else there keep you on track and out of the black hole known as memory-lane and other common distractions.


It is also through the decision-making process that we as the designers of the space come to deeply understand how a client needs to use the different rooms in their home and what objects they need access to daily, monthly, etc.  It is from this detective work we can create new systems that will actually work for the clients’ particular needs.


We are there to guide the decision-making and help the client see their blindspots that got them into this mess in the first place!


4. Folding isn’t always the answer.

The vertical “file” folding method that Marie Kondo has become famous for is a smart optimization of space, for sure.  But in the typical American household it’s not a lack of space that’s the issue.  It’s too much stuff in the space to begin with. We even say at New Minimalism that a complicated organizational system (or complicated folding, in this case) is often indicative of needing to do a deeper, more thorough decluttering.

Take, for example this badass lawyer client of ours who lives in San Francisco.  We were decluttering this working mother’s wardrobe and it was clear from the state of her room that she lead a busy life that resulted in clothing chaotically strewn about the master bedroom.  At work she was killing it, at home it was a disaster zone.  

KonMari folding method doesn’t work across all scenarios

KonMari folding method doesn’t work across all scenarios

Looks great. But can we talk about the fact that YOU HAVE 32 T-SHIRTS?!!!

Looks great. But can we talk about the fact that YOU HAVE 32 T-SHIRTS?!!!

After discussions on the value of slowing down to “end the cycle of busy” and a deep clothing purge, we were able to easily fit about 10 cotton shirts in a drawer in her dresser.  I observed, “So it looks like folding is not a priority for you.  Would you say this is true?”  She laughed at my phrasing and agreed, so I gave her “permission” to let the cotton t-shirts float free as contained chaos within the single drawer.  Her eyes opened wide and she said, “Wait, so I don’t have to fold?! Wow, you just blew my mind!”  It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders at this fact.  In this case, a “contained chaos” approach works.  And since with this client we were starting at a beginners level of organizational prowess, it would be unrealistic to ask her to fold her shirts neatly. Baby steps.  She’s not going to go from throwing her clothes all about her room to neatly folding cotton t-shirts in a dresser drawer.  Getting the clutter under control and manageable is the first step in the overall behavior shift that will translate into keeping an orderly space. This will improve over time, and with commitment and desire from the client. The main takeaway is that the vertical folding technique of the KonMari method works in some cases, but should not been seen as a cure-all storage solution for every item in your home.

Getting the clutter under control and manageable is the first step in the overall behavior shift that will translate into keeping an orderly space.


5. Design matters!

We detail 12 Design Principles in our book!

We detail 12 Design Principles in our book!

What about the design of the space after your decluttering sweep?  Many of the spaces either feel bare and bereft of character or don’t feel different at all.  How about the rearranging of furniture? Repurposing that gorgeous rug as wall-hanging piece of art? A fresh coat of paint? When you thoroughly declutter, you have to redesign the space to accommodate the new needs.  Tricks like placing your dresser in your closet, displaying everyday objects as art or repurposing sentimental items for decor are overlooked parts of the KonMari process.  We have 12 Design Principles in the New Minimalism book that tackle this subject head-on.  We recommend spending time and effort on redesigning the space so that it retains a warmth and character and actually inspires New Minimalism clients to continue to care for their spaces long after we are finished working together.

We love hearing from you! Did these 5 tips deepen your own decluttering insights? Please share on Instagram your own decluttering tips :)

3 Common Decluttering Mistakes (And How To Get Over Each)

This article was originally posted on mindbodygreen.com

image // via

image // via



As a minimalist and a professional declutterer, I've seen firsthand how changing your space can change your life. I've seen just how powerful the transformation from a cluttered and overwhelming home to one that is simple, beautiful, and streamlined can be.

The process of creating these spaces is actually quite simple: Step one is to go through your stuff. Then, you keep the very best of it—the items that are your favorite, that inspire and delight you, and that are useful to you right now—and donate the rest.

 But just because it's simple doesn't mean it's easy. Our relationship with stuff can be complicated!

According to one new poll by Porch, a digital network of home professionals for hire, over 61 percent of us are ashamed of the extra stuff we hold onto. Let that sink in.

So why do we do it? Why do we hold onto stuff that makes us feel so bad? 

Imagine a baseball cap. An objective observer might note that the cap is worn out, ragged, and ill-fitting. But to the owner, this is the hat they got on their first date with their first love. It's the hat they were wearing when their team finally won. It's the hat they always grab when they go to the beach. Or it's a hat that works perfectly well and doesn't need to be replaced, thank you very much.

All of those reactions to the cap are actually about much larger forces: our relationships, our sense of self, our values. So maybe you know the hat is on the fritz, but it's still hard to let it go.

Porch also detailed three "reasons" or mental blocks that we most frequently use to convince ourselves to hold onto items. Their findings aligned completely with my experience and the archetypes I detailed in the book I co-authored with my business partner, New Minimalism: Decluttering and Design for Sustainable, Intentional Living.

The good news is that these blocks can be fairly easily worked through. With self-awareness and self-kindness, you can release these shame-inducing items and create the home you've always dreamed of.

Here are the three main reasons people give for holding onto clutter, and how to overcome them:

Reason No. 1: "I might need it someday."

Archetype: Practical

Practical people are mind-driven, tend to be logical, strategic and pragmatic; they see potential use in all objects.

The key for the Practical personality is to reframe what exactly makes something useful and to elevate your standards accordingly.

So rather than asking yourself if a third box of paper clips is potentially useful, ask yourself if those items are useful to you right now. Consider not just the costs of perhaps needing to replace something someday but also the costs of keeping items that you don't need. How much space do all of these items take up? How much time do you waste hunting for things you do need or wondering what you have around?

Reason No. 2: "It was expensive."

Archetype: Frugal

Frugal types tend to be very self-aware and clear on their priorities. They are intentional about where they spend their precious resources. They don't like the idea of wasting, whether that be money, time, or energy. This gets tricky when Frugal folks come up against items that aren't useful or wanted but for which they've invested precious resources.

The most important lesson for the Frugal archetype is self-forgiveness.

It can be frustrating to have made a purchasing "mistake." While you can't go back in time and undo that action, you do get to choose how you feel about it moving forward. You can keep items you regret and feel a pang of guilt and shame each time you see them. Or you can acknowledge the sunk cost, internalize the bigger reason this investment didn't pan out, and let the item—and your negative feelings—go and vow to do better next time.

Reason No. 3: "It brings back good memories."

Archetype: Connected

Connected folks are heart-led; they value relationships and shared memories above all else. In general, if objects elicit positive feelings, this is a good thing. But homes oriented toward memories can quickly become museums of the past that don't allow space for new experiences and relationships.

Allow one to stand for many.

Don't feel like you need to part with everything from your beloved grandmother or treasured travels. Instead, select an item or two to represent the relationship or experiences you want to recall. Rather than sticking all of these items in a closet, choose to display and interact with those couple of items and then graciously let go of the rest.

How to declutter when someone you love has died

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There is a reason that the Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning made such a splash in American culture: a significant portion of us either receive or will leave a lifetime’s worth of possessions for someone else to sort out.

The main challenges of decluttering when someone you love has died are threefold. First, in the state of grief and loss, it’s really hard to untangle our desire to feel connection to that person with wanting to be surrounded by their stuff.

Second, it can be overwhelming for anyone to declutter their own lives. When you add another person’s stuff on top and it can feel impossible to know where to even begin.

Third, we know the stories of our own things and that can lead to us being attached. But with our loved one’s belongings sometimes we won’t know what things are or if our loved one valued them, so we will assign value and importance to everything.

If you or someone you care about is dealing with this now, please know we are sending you a big hug, that we are so sorry for your loss, and that we believe in your ability to both honor and cherish the memory of your loved one while living in a space that feels light, calm, and supportive to you.

I’ve been thinking over this subject a lot but it was a question that came in from a reader that inspired me to get this is all out. Below I’ve included a version of the question (removing any personal details for the sake of anonymity) we received and my letter in response.

The most important takeaways are these:

  1. Decide if you’re at a place in your mourning and grief where you are actually ready to begin decluttering. It’s ok if you aren’t. Be kind to yourself and take your time.

  2. Start with your own belongings. This really serves as a warm up. A chance to experience decluttering in a less emotionally challenging area.

  3. Choose a few of your favorite, most treasured items of your loved one. Give these items places of honor in your home and display them in a way that brings you joy and helps you feel connected to your loved one and their memory.

  4. Move into an easier category of your loved one’s belongings. This will ideally be quite small and not emotionally burdensome, like: athletic shoes, tupperware, or office supplies.

  5. Go at a pace and scale that feels right to you. It’s important to stay within the bounds of what feels safe and good to you, and to give yourself a break if you stumble upon something emotionally complicated when you’re not expecting it.

  6. Select an organization (or several) that were meaningful to your loved one or to you and donate their items there. Trying to sell belongings usually extends an already trying process and can feel invalidating when the financial value does not match our emotional experience of the object.

  7. Offer up a few belongings to any interested family members but don’t transfer the burden of decluttering to them or a future generation. This is one of the kindest things you can do for others.

 
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My aunt lived with me for 15 years and she passed away last year. I haven't been able to go through her closet and donate her things because it makes me cry. I also have china, crystal, and silver plate things that my aunt had and also inherited more from her mother and aunt. I also have a lot of craft items, fabric, and various other collections my parents bought me (they’re gone, too). My problem is I don't want to just give away some of these things because they are valuable, but in speaking with an antique dealer, those items aren't wanted. I have no other family so I can't give anything to relatives. I feel so overwhelmed with all my stuff I don't know what to do or where to start. I would follow your directions and start with wardrobe, but I can't do my aunt's clothes yet. Any advice? Thank you in advance for your time and expertise.

Hi there,

First of all, I am so sorry for loss. It makes so much sense that sorting through your aunt’s belongings would be hard. So I guess I would start there, and just encourage you to be kind and gentle with yourself. What you're going through is incredibly challenging and unfortunately very common. We've worked with a lot of clients who've lost parents, spouses, and other family members and it is hands down one of the most challenging projects to undertake.

I'd love to offer up a few pieces of advice or thoughts to mull over. The first would be: do you feel ready to tackle your aunt’s belongings now? It's ok to take your time and to process your grief and return to this later. If, however, you're feeling like you're really ready to make a change and just overwhelmed trying to determine where to begin, read on.

To begin, I'd encourage you to start with your own possessions in a category that will be easy for you. This will be a place where you can get a few big wins, start to make a dent in the amount of stuff you have, and familiarize yourself with the process of letting go. For some people, this could be books (which could then be donated to the local library), while for others it might be kitchenware (which could be donated to an organization that helps to resettle refugees, houses those experiencing homelessness, or helps domestic abuse survivors). Feel free to start really small, like just with athletic shoes or scarves. 

Once you're feeling confident and starting to experience some benefits of letting go you can then make moves into more emotionally complex zones. Before touching any of your aunt's goods, I'd go through and select a few really prized items that you love and remind you of aunt in a happy way. Maybe you'll display a small collection of her necklaces, or a frame a beautiful scarf of hers, or bring four of her best china teacups into your cabinets to use each morning. This will help ensure that your aunt's presence is felt in your home and will give you space to release more items.

You could then move to a tiny category of your aunt's, like bracelets or slacks. Depending on how she liked to dress, those items could be donated to Dress for Success or a local Senior Center or Salvation Army. From there, you can expand into larger or more complex categories, always going at a pace and scale that feels safe and good to you. Usually decluttering gets easier and easier as you go along, but know that grief comes in waves and that you might stumble upon a really tender item when you’re not expecting it. Take the time to process your feelings and honor yourself if and when you need to take a break.

In terms of the items that the antique dealer told you there wasn't a market for, I'm afraid my advice might not be what you are hoping for: let them go. It can be so hard when we've invested money into belongings to simply donate them, but the energy and time and emotional space we take up by trying to sell things at a fraction of their perceived value is ultimately far harder and less rewarding. Instead, I'd select an recipient organization that is important to you or to your aunt and know that these items will be utterly treasured and beloved by people who've not been fortunate enough to have such beautiful things in their life before. Again, I'd suggest one of several organizations that work on housing and helping to create stable, meaningful lives for the vulnerable among us. It might feel really hard as you prepare yourself to let these items go, but once they're gone I think you might be surprised by how much lighter (physically, emotionally, spiritually) you feel in your home. 

We’re here if you have any other questions or would like to work with us directly; many hands can indeed make light work.

Wishing you the best,

Cary

Decluttering Vs. Organizing

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While many aspects of the New Minimalism decluttering process developed over time and through practice, there is one condition that we knew from the very inception of New Minimalism: we are not home organizers.

In our process we first and foremost declutter, and we will tell you why this distinction matters.

A home organizer will take all your worldly possessions and perfectly organize, color-code, and alphabetize them. At New Minimalism, however, we have you question whether those items should even be there in the first place. A perfectly organized space does not automatically mean you lead an effortless, clutter-free life. In fact, the need for a complicated organizational system is usually indicative of too much stuff to begin with.

A beautiful, easy-to-maintain, organized home is simply one of many positive by-products of a thoughtfully curated and decluttered life.

When in pursuit of restoring order to your home, look not to the big-box home organizing stores and magazines for answers. Their solutions beckon with promises of order and free time. But in reality, most of those multicolored stacking plastic drawers are where your things go to die. Once you finally haul those drawers home and neatly tuck away all your doodads, those items are now out of sight, out of mind, and pretty much guaranteed to never be engaged with again. How sad!

Effortful and intricate organization systems are entirely against the greater point of having your things work for you. Complicated systems require time and money to obtain, effort to install, and constant energy to keep up.

Be wary of any system that requires a significant amount of your time to maintain. Do you really want to spend an hour of your precious Saturday afternoon maintaining your recipe archives or your tool shed? All for a system that is supposedly making things easier for you? We didn’t think so. And as such we always default to the simplest, easiest systems possible.

If you were looking for the can opener in Cary’s kitchen, it would be in the one drawer designated for kitchen tools. That’s it. No labeled slot the can opener must be returned to. It’s just in the drawer with the six or so other tools she uses all the time. Similarly, Kyle corrals her pajamas in a small basket in her closet. Sometimes the clothes are folded; sometimes they are floating free.

But what allows this version of contained chaos to work is the fact that there are few items in the basket to begin with.

This excerpt was taken from our book, New Minimalism - Decluttering and Design for Sustainable, Intentional Living

5 Feng Shui & Decluttering Hacks For Calling In Love

This article was originally written for and posted on mindbodygreen

image // from our book

image // from our book

You’re ready for love. You’ve got the dating profile and the first date outfit you feel unstoppable in. You’re confident, open, and excited to meet someone new. Yet the type of relationship you desire most eludes you.

As a professional declutterer, I’ve worked with dozens of clients who say they are looking for love but whose spaces not only do not attract love but often repel potential partners.

While your body language may be shouting "Yes!" to romance, chances are your home is yelling "No!" The good news? In just one day, you can shift the energy, layout, and appearance of your home to be optimized for love.

Below are five crucial decluttering and feng shui tips for calling in love:

1. Make emotional space for this person.

We had a client whose walls were full of framed photos of her and her family, her and her friends, and her and *gasp* her ex (see No. 5). While she said that she wanted a partner, everything about her space implied that opposite: Her full walls signified a life without room for someone new. Not only that, having her walls so full of memories energetically pulled her into the past. This is not to say you shouldn’t decorate your home as you prefer, but do make sure that there is room both physically and energetically for someone new to enter your life. Negative space is not an absence; it’s allowing space for things to unfold.

Try this: Designate space in your home to leave open.

This could be a dresser drawer, a couple of open picture frames, a hook next to the door for someone else’s jacket, a towel bar in the bathroom, or, ideally, all of the above. This signals to the universe and subconsciously to people who enter your space that you are ready for love.

2. Shift your layout to support love.

I can’t tell you how many clients we’ve worked with who say that finding love is a top priority, and yet their spaces are completely uninviting or unsupportive of a relationship. There might be only one comfy reading spot, just one good coffee mug, or a bed too small to comfortably sleep two people. The point is not to make some voodoo doll of exactly the person you’re calling in but to make your space, however subconsciously, feel welcoming to the person you choose to invite in. In terms of design, this means making room for another person to be comfortable and relaxed in your bedroom with you.

Try this: Make your bedroom work for two.

Above all, pull your bed out of the corner—the only side of the bed that should be against the wall is where you rest your head. This allows comfortable access to the bed on each side for each person. Ideally, you’ll have a second bedside table with a lamp and room for a water glass, contacts, and so on

image // via

image // via

3. Remove stuff from under your bed.

This problem seems to be a holdover from college days of tiny dorm rooms shared with strangers. Yet we see so many clients in their 20s, 30s, and 40s with boxes and bins under the bed! This space becomes a musty catchall for things that aren’t needed right now or aren’t a priority. Which is really bad feng shui. You’re literally spending the time you’re supposed to be relaxing and restoring floating just a few inches above dust bunnies and a bunch of to-do's. Ideally, under the bed will be totally empty, no exceptions, which allows for optimal energy circulation around the bed. If you are in a tiny studio or sharing an apartment in Brooklyn where your bed takes up about 60 percent of your room, it might be almost impossible to avoid storing things there.

Try this: Keep under your bed completely clear.

If you must store items under the bed, then do so in this order: clean bed linens, clean towels, clean out-of-season but beloved clothing. Storage should be well-made, closed bins that fit easily under the bed (i.e., if you have to pull everything out in order to find what you want or if the bins are forced up against the bottom of the bed frame, it’s no good). Do not store at any cost: mail, power cords, to-do’s, anything unkempt. Be certain to regularly clean under the bed and declutter any noncrucial items.

4. Get electronics out of the bedroom.

This is a good lifelong practice for everyone: single, partnered, child, adult. Bedrooms are the most aptly and literally named spaces in our homes. Bed. Room. They are meant exclusively for rest, rejuvenation, and intimacy. Electronics, on the other hand, are stimulating: They scatter our energy, steal our focus, and distract us from the pure. Ideally, the only items needing electricity in your room would be lamps and possibly an alarm clock or music source.

Try this: Remove ALL TVs, computers, gaming systems, cellphones, and other stimulating electronics from the bedroom.

Make sure that any remaining electronics are in good shape, dust-free, that their cords are comfortably tucked away, and that there are no overloaded power outlets.

5. Release objects from exes.

Objects have energy; that’s why we can have such strong feelings about them. Items from our exes have a powerful vibration that is both negative and pulls us toward the past. Think about stumbling upon an object from a past relationship. Paying close attention, what emotions arise when you see, hold, or wear this item? The best-case scenario is that you feel nostalgia, melancholy, or the distant ache of a fond memory. The worst-case scenario is you spiral into regret, anger, recrimination, loneliness, or heartache. The most effective way to shift your energy—conscious and subconscious—to a positive, present state is to part with the negative items in your space.

Try this: Do a "cord-cutting visualization" alongside a thorough purge of items you associate with your ex-lovers.

The visualization will help to defuse much of the energetic power of these items, making it far more straightforward to bless and release things from your exes. This includes: belongings of your ex, gifts from them, and items you associate strongly with a memory or experience with them (e.g., the dress you wore on your first date, the tchotchke you purchased on a trip together). If there are things you truly do not want to part with, be conscious of clearing the energy associated with them and how you store or display them. Note: Past relationships that end well still require a type of energetic cutting to allow you to move forward. If you’ve had a relationship where you were hurt, betrayed, or brokenhearted, then all the more so.

I Tried Living With Only 100 Things. Here's What Happened.

This post originally appeared on mindbodygreen.

A peak inside my post-100 Things Challenge closet.

A peak inside my post-100 Things Challenge closet.

My journey to minimalism began in one of the least romantic ways possible: I was broke.

I’d love to say that I woke up one day and decided that I wanted to live a more conscious life, but that’s not the case. Nope, what I really wanted was to get the hell out of my cubicle and corporate law office. I wanted to leave so badly that I decided to forsake my generous salary and all the free meals and perks that came with my steady gig. Oh, and I did all of this in the heart of the recession in 2010.

In order to make ends meet, I knew that I would need to drastically reduce my spending and likely sell of some of my possessions. Like, immediately. I fully expected the experience to be a sacrifice—likely a painful one—but I thought that it would end as soon as my next stream of corporate paychecks came in.

Imagine my surprise, then, when about three months into my self-imposed, ultra- frugal experiment, I realized I was really really happy.

I didn’t feel restricted at all by not buying shoes and iPods (this was 2010 folks!) on my lunch breaks. In fact, I felt the exact opposite. I felt light, liberated, confident and free.

I was astonished that I’d ever lived with overflowing closets and crazy high credit card bills. I was also hooked: removing all of the extra stuff I didn’t really need from my life and donating it to people in my community felt amazing. For the first time I felt like the me I wanted to be: generous, thoughtful, and at ease.

Several years into my minimalist journey, though, I felt I’d hit a plateau.

I was hungry for the hit of dopamine that decluttering inspired—the personal growth that had come from simplifying in the past. As luck would have it, it wasn't long before I stumbled across a book by a man named Dave Bruno titled The 100 Thing Challenge. It was about, go figure, a guy lived with exactly 100 personal items for a year. And he didn’t just keep his other stuff in storage—he donated or tossed anything that didn’t make the cut.

“This is it!” I thought to myself. “This is how I can get that feeling back; this is how I can get even more clear, even more free, even more generous.”

If you can already sense that this was a bad idea, or at least poor reasoning for an iffy idea, then you would be several steps ahead of me. While I eschewed the greedy consumerist mindset of “more is always better,” I didn’t pause for a second to consider that “less is always better” might also be untrue.

Instead I charged ahead, creating all kinds of rules. I decided that I wouldn't count household items like plates, furniture, and the like, in my 100. I would count any of my personal possessions including pens, journals, shoes, jewelry, clothing, etc. As far as how I would count them, a pair of socks was one thing, a bikini was one thing, and a "library" of 25 books counted as one thing. (What can I say, I love books!).

Here's how the challenge panned out:

 

The Good

As I went from around 300 to 175 things, I felt sleeker and lighter. Letting go of so much felt a little bit risky, but in an exhilarating way. Everything I let go of was replaceable, and yet I didn't end up replacing any of it.

The Okay

175 to 135 things. In hindsight, this was probably sweet spot of the challenge for me. It was hard, don’t get me wrong, and more than a little uncomfortable. But it also helped me reach new levels of self-awareness. It helped me break a number of long-held stories and beliefs about stuff I’d never realized I held. Parting with these items was challenging but liberating. Had I not been so stubborn and so proud (and more than a little bit holier-than-thou) I would have declared the experiment a success and complete right here.

The Ugly

When it was time to whittle 135 things down to 100, sanity left me and obsession took its place. I simultaneously hated and obsessed over every. single. thing. I. owned. I counted and compared value and prayed for holes so that I could force myself to let go of things that I really loved. Getting to 100 things required me to totally override my internal sense of what felt good, and in doing so I ventured into a hollow, controlling emotional space.

The end of the experiment re-ignited a piece of my brain that I’d not felt since I was an early teen who struggled with food issues. It became about proving a point, imagining that by contorting myself to fit a made up standard, I would suddenly feel the way l craved. (Spoiler alert: I didn’t.)

Instead, I ended up getting back into the habit that I turned to minimalism to relieve in the first place: I became obsessed with my stuff.

 

Which is why you might be surprised that I would nonetheless recommend everyone try out the 100 Things Challenge.

Just with one crucial caveat: do NOT count your stuff. I believe this challenge is fatally flawed because it rewards rigid, obsessive behavior.

Counting is a form of keeping score. It’s how we get competitive; it roots us ego; and it removes us from the bigger picture of why we’re simplifying in the first place. Life is all about fluidity and flexibility. Philosophies and values keep your actions aligned with what matters to you, while rules keep you penned in. There is a crucial difference.

Instead, I would encourage you to take on this challenge basing your “success” on how it feels.

Note that if this is the first time you’re deeply decluttering, it might feel a bit uncomfortable. A mild or even medium amount of discomfort is a good thing: like our muscles feeling sore after a challenging workout, intellectual discomfort is how we know we’re growing. So stretch a toe outside of your comfort zone and hangout there for a moment.

Are you actually ok?  Does this maybe even feel better?  Then keep moving forward and testing your limits, but please do so more mindfully than I did. Push yourself until you hit your real limit (which might be a good amount further than you thought it was!) where tension is growing and the benefits of further decluttering falter, then honor yourself and stop there. That is how you really succeed in decluttering.

 

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You Get To Choose

"You get to choose how you feel.  You get to choose how you feel about everything."

This is one of my favorite quotes of all time.  Danielle LaPorte in her sultry-voiced, slam poet wisdom said this in a recorded interview several years ago.*  I have relistened to it no less than a dozen times.

You get to choose how you feel about everything.

This wisdom can be applied to everyday shit-hitting-the-fan kind of moments (Bay Area traffic, I'm looking at you).  But on a deeper level, I think it's a powerful tool for reflecting on our stuff.  And specifically:

How your stuff makes you feel.

This past year I've been treading through the decluttering landmine of Childhood Memorabilia.  My parents decided to downsize and moved out of my childhood home this past August.  This meant that all my photos, art projects, writing, diaries, awards, etc. which had to-date lived in "my room" were suddenly mine to deal with.  

 

A daily, yet precious memory from childhood.  Around the dinner table with my siblings: Lauren, Robin, Zack and myself.  Yep, I know I had killer bangs. 

Arriving at my San Francisco apartment inside of a box and large suitcase were memories from every part of my life, from birth until I moved to California at 24 years old: every sports ribbon I'd earned, every photo I'd ever taken, even my first pair of shoes.

Where Do I Begin?

Opening these boxes up, it felt like everything inside them was a treasure: a marker of a time in my life that could never be recreated.  Each object or written page felt like a crucial piece in the puzzle of "who I am."

Not only that, everything had been kept for so long already.  They'd been stored for decades in Illinois and then lovingly boxed up and brought to California by my mom.  

Obviously, this would all have to stay.  Or would it?

There is a psychological principle called the Endowment Effect (look at me, mom and dad -- I'm using my college education!) which says that the longer we've had something in our possession, the more value it holds in our eyes.  Combine this with a healthy dose of nostalgia and suddenly it seems unfathomable to part with a single item from our personal history.

And yet, in my attempt to match my actions with my words (aka: trying not to be a total hypocrite), I decided to question everything and go through each item, one by one.

The Oriole cabin at Camp Lake Hubert circa 1993.  A brief but catalytic and deeply happy memory.  Also, this photo was mailed to me by my camp bestie, Annelyse, during our 3 year penpal spell.  Rad, right?

The Oriole cabin at Camp Lake Hubert circa 1993.  A brief but catalytic and deeply happy memory.  Also, this photo was mailed to me by my camp bestie, Annelyse, during our 3 year penpal spell.  Rad, right?

Question Everything

On the surface, each item was of somewhat equal merit: it was from my past and had, at some point, been deemed worthy of saving.  

So to help me through this process I called on Danielle LaPorte and decided to pay attention exclusively to how the item made me feel.  

While everything was tinged with a bit of nostalgia, some created a sense of real happiness and joy while others fell flat and others still called up for me strong feelings of sadness or isolation or embarrassment (ah, adolescence).  

The Criteria

The most joyful surprise of this entire process was noticing the threads of values and narratives which have remained constant throughout my life.  Nearly every item I kept spoke to the traits and values that I still love about myself: family, creativity, athletics, adventure, and writing.  

The things I kept: hysterical little notebooks that I've written creative stories and diary entries throughout my life, my songbook from camp, the journal from my NOLS trip in Wyoming, elementary school sports team photos (me and my tiny legs in huge shin guards with a soccer ball on my knee), elementary school class photos (some of those teachers shaped my life more than they could ever know -- Miss Badran, if for some crazy reason you happen to be reading this, thank you), a couple of my prized swimming awards, and nearly every family photo.  Just typing out this list makes me smile!

What I Let Go

1. Items that "fell flat".  This category mostly includes objects of achievement, ie: reports I got good grades on but could not care less about their content or don't even recall creating.  Also, objects from areas that aren't important to me: participation awards for mandatory science fairs and spelling bees, photos of people who I knew briefly and never kept up with, yearbooks in general.  

2. Things that made me feel negative emotions.  Photos from my surprise 16th birthday (all of that attention as a teenager still in braces felt mortifying), inappropriate notes from friends during my rebellious years (a shameful defiant, bratty period), a slew of generally ugly photos from said teenage/braces years (don't worry, there are still plenty in our family albums that my kids can tease me about).

On the shores of Lake Superior (my favorite place in the world) with my siblings (3 of my favorite people in the world). 

On the shores of Lake Superior (my favorite place in the world) with my siblings (3 of my favorite people in the world). 

What's Your Story?

I'm not encouraging a false sense of who we once were or a rewriting of history.  That time I snuck out in eighth grade and scared the crap out of my parents who then grounded me forever?  I will never forget that. But I also don't need to be continually faced with reminders of who I was, frozen in a particular time period during my personal evolution.  Of course, I still suffer, I still feel sad, but I choose not to have things that trigger those emotions in my home. 

As humans, we are given the gift of narrative.  We might think that we tell events exactly as they were, but we don't.  We tell things as we saw them, through our own eyes from our perspective based on our own values and stories.  And so I'm deciding to only surround myself with things that create and inspire a positive narrative in my life.  

 

*PS- This quote was from Ms. LaPorte's interview with Mastin Kipp on The Daily Love Extravaganza 2012.  I have this saved to my iTunes but unfortunately could not find a live link!

Love is an Overused Word

When working with clients to declutter their homes, we ask a lot of questions.  We look at items through a variety of lenses to help our clients determine whether or not an item is adding value to their life (and should stay) or is no longer relevant or needed (and should be donated).  

Some of these questions include: 

  • Is this a duplicate?

  • If you needed it, could you use something else in its place?  

  • Would you buy it again if it cost twice as much? 

  • And the ever popular (yet not always effective for reasons I am about to explain) question, do you love it?

 

Let’s imagine we are helping a client declutter her handbags (feel free to insert "backpacks," "costumes," "electronics" or "sneakers" if those are a better fit for you).  After staging all handbags for easy decision-making, Cary holds up the first bag.  Our client responds, “I love that bag, I use it all the time.”  Ok, we put it in the keep pile.  Cary holds up a second bag and again the client says, “I love that bag, I use it all the time.”  Ok, keep pile.  Fast-forward to twelve handbags later, our client has said the same thing for all 12 bags.  

Ok, waaaait a minute.  Do you really love all 12 separate handbags?  And use them all the time?  First of all, it is physically impossible to use all 12 handbags all the time.  So let’s just remove that reasoning from the table.  

Secondly, what about the true meaning of love? It is a noun, defined as “an intense feeling of deep affection”.  Do you truly love even one handbag? Like actually love it, the way you love your grandmother?  Or your kids?  Or your pet? Would you do anything for this handbag?

When you start to use a word like “love” to describe all your handbags, how is it possible to differentiate between them?  What if it came down to having just 2 and only 2?  What if your house were on fire and you could only grab 2 handbags on the way out, which ones make the cut?  (Never mind that if your house were actually on fire I’m guessing you would ditch the handbags altogether and save the family photos!)

Marie Kondo uses the lens, “spark joy”.  If an item “sparks joy”, then it earns the right to stay in your life.  And while that lens may work for some people, others first need to define what joy means for themselves.  Doing so requires a grounded self-awareness that won’t work for the people who claim to love everything that they own.

So, let’s say you are decluttering on your own and you find yourself rationalizing that you love all your items.  What do you do then? 

At this point, you have to pivot and use a different lens to look at your things.  You have to be even more discerning. You start by slowing down, taking a deep breath, and stepping back. Reexamine your use of the word love. Give it back the power it was originally intended to have. Be selective when using it in your day-to-day life. 

Because here’s the thing - even if you love something, you can still donate it!  

I know - it’s shocking!  It is possible to concurrently appreciate the beauty and craftsmanship of an item and let someone else own it.  The act of cherishing an item and donating it are not mutually exclusive, in fact, those two acts, at their heart, are probably positively correlated

Because things are made to be used, and when they are not being used you are not honoring the inherent usefulness, the time and energy it took to extract those resources, dye the fabric, product the zippers and assemble the materials. 

So if you actually, truly love your 12th favorite handbag, you'll understand that you are not using it with the frequency that this wonderful bag deserves, and you'll donate it, so that it becomes someone else’s No. 1, favorite handbag that they use all the time.

 

Make Space for What Matters Most

*Author's note:  Today I wanted to share a more personal, complete story of how I came to be one half of New Minimalism.  Also, I am deeply grateful for my mother's current vibrant health and well-being.

The first time I ever did a major decluttering project, I didn’t have a name for what I was doing or a even clear understanding of why.  

Twelve years ago my mom was hospitalized for several weeks with a terrifying and seemingly undiagnosable illness.  My dad was doing his best to be the breadwinner for our family as well as the health advocate for my mom, parent to my little sister and brother who were at home, and optimist for my older sister and I away at college.  

I rushed home early from a term in college to find my parents’ home a functioning if hollow place. 

My little sister, still in high school, was trying to run our house, take care of herself and my brother, all while being terrified that our mom still had no diagnosis and wasn’t coming home.  My little brother, just into double digits, said upon receiving a school lunch our father had made him without the usual motherly touches (read: the wrong kind of cheese and no dessert), “You’re my favorite dad, but you’re not a really good mom.” 

After returning home from the hospital where I had spent the day with my disoriented, confused, and deeply upset mom as she received a series of MRIs and other scans, I went up to my childhood bedroom, curled up into a ball as panic and sadness washed over me.  I cried, hyperventilated, went down rabbit-holes of all the terrible scenarios that might play out. 

I felt wholly impotent and scared, powerless to make my mom healthy or to substitute for her in my fragmented family.  How could I explain to my brother what was going on when I had no idea?  How could I help with the things that really mattered: finances, insurance, treatment plans -- when I was barely an adult myself?   

And yet I needed to do something.  I needed to feel like I was making at least one small thing better.

So I went down to the basement of our old 1913 farmhouse and looked around.  A month's worth of dirty towels, sheets, clothing, my brother's sports uniforms -- they were spilling out of our massive hamper on onto the floor.   Laundry.  That was something I could do.  

As I slowly chipped away at the mountain of laundry, I felt better.  Just a tiny bit lighter and inspired to do more.  If I couldn’t fix the big things, I reasoned, at least I could somehow make life a little easier for everyone. 

Looking around our dark, crowded basement I decided to start with all of the stuff there. 

As so often happens with families, our basement had become a zone of cast-off hobbies, outgrown clothing and equipment.  

Many of these items had been passed down through all four of us, had been well used and loved.  And most of it was ready to go.

For five days, any time I wasn't at the hospital or getting dinner ready for my siblings, I worked in the basement and was able to donate of three huge SUVs worth of stuff to our community rummage sale.  Everything else in the basement suddenly fit on the shelves, like-with-like, orderly, good, calm.  I could breathe a little deeper still. 

Looking at the washer and dryer in corner, I was struck by the sheer number of loads of laundry my mom had done for us in the 20 years we’d been in the house.   All of the hours spent in the dark, musty, old basement just to take care of us... 

This, I knew, was my turn to be the one taking care of my mom.

So I went to the hardware store, selected two shades of paint that I hoped would transport her from the basement to somewhere softer, warmer, easier.  Then I hung a few of my parents prints from Jamaica on the walls and placed a brightly striped rug for the floor — and ta da!  Just like being in Negril (not really, but I tried:). 

A few weeks later, my mom returned from the hospital with a clear diagnosis and path to health.  As I showed her around the basement, I was suddenly self-conscious.  

It seemed so clear when the two of us were together that this project had just been a way for me to channel anxiety while unable to do something that really mattered.  But my mom loved it.  She understood my desire to show her my love, to care for her in some way, to make her life a little brighter and easier.

The Telander Clan:  My parents, sisters, brother and me before my little sister's wedding.

The Telander Clan:  My parents, sisters, brother and me before my little sister's wedding.

Over the years my aesthetic has matured (and by that I mean I teamed up with Kyle!), and the speed with which I help others declutter has increased exponentially, but at my core, the reason I do what I do is the same reason I decluttered and elevated my parents' basement:  

To make things easier when they are hard.  To lighten burdens, to lift spirits, to open space for happiness and creativity.  I find it an honor to bear witness to the things that people part with, to celebrate their rediscovery of an item they deeply love, to support them through the challenges of the process, and to shepherd them into a new phase in their lives.  And to give a small piece of my love.

There are so many things in this life that we cannot control, so many joyful and challenging times that arise unexpectedly, so much mess associated with life in general.  At New Minimalism it's not that we're trying to control life so that nothing out of the ordinary ever plays out.  We’re actually clearing a stage so that the real, meaningful events and relationships can receive the attention and focus they deserve (I love you mom:).