Start Here

Decluttering Vs. Organizing

6 Kitchen After.jpg

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

The Equation is Out of Balance

Photo by Kelly Ishikawa

Photo by Kelly Ishikawa

When was the last time you brought a new possession into your home? Maybe it was an article of clothing, a piece of decor, or something small like a new mug or a set of pens. Today, possibly. Maybe yesterday. Almost certainly this week.

For the typical American, a new item enters the home almost daily. An Amazon package arriving at your doorstep with a new book or a quick dash into a store for a pair of shoes has shockingly turned into a part of everyday life for a lot of people. Add to this the half-dozen life events when we are showered with gifts, and is it any surprise that the average American household contains three hundred thousand items?

Now recall the last time you let go of an item because you simply didn’t enjoy it or need it anymore. When was the last time you released several bags or boxes of items all at once without replacing them with something new? For many people, it’s likely been years or even decades. Or perhaps you’ve never completed a big purge in your entire life. Our culture’s big clutter problem is not only due to new stuff constantly crossing the threshold of our homes but also the great infrequency with which things leave our homes. If you’re good at math, it’s pretty simple: the equation is out of balance.

Photo by Kelly Ishikawa

Photo by Kelly Ishikawa

Hit the Reset Button

A popular decluttering strategy we’ve seen some of our clients test out before calling us in is the “one a day” method of donating one item daily. Despite diligently sticking to their plan, these clients become frustrated when they find that this daily practice has barely made a dent in their space. Other clients practice the “one in, one out” rule, meaning that anytime new things enter their home, they have to get rid of an equal number of items. They, too, end up feeling as though they are running in place, always dealing with their items but never making any noticeable progress. This is because both of these theories are excellent, but only for maintaining an already decluttered home.

In order to get to that place of pure maintenance, you first have to hit the reset button and complete one huge, sweeping clear-out. You have to deal with the backlog of items that have accumulated in order to get to a point where you are simply maintaining a clutter-free space. This big reset is not a type of self-flagellation or asceticism or the cause of deep suffering. It is, in fact, the opposite. It’s a skimming of the fat, a removing of the excess so that what is needed and used and loved has the space and attention it deserves.

In life’s great ecosystem, envision yourself as a “leverage point.” This is a term coined by the environmental educator Donella Meadows for “places within a complex system (a corporation, an economy, a living body, a city, an ecosystem) where a small shift in one thing can produce big changes in everything.” As you tread lightly, mindfully, and generously, picture the ripple effect of your actions as they radiate out from your home, into your community, until eventually, they encompass this little blue dot called Earth that we all share.

This excerpt comes from our book, New Minimalism, Decluttering and Design for Sustainable, Intentional Living.

How Your Busy Schedule Is Hurting You

This article was originally written for and posted on mindbodygreen. Click here to check out the original!

image // Leandro Crespi

image // Leandro Crespi

In our culture, the answer of "I’m so busy" to the question of "How are you?" is respected, even revered. We admire people who cram as much as possible into their days—and this glorification of busy-ness can also contribute to an unhealthy obsession with "stuff."

While most of our at New Minimalism involves dealing with people’s physical possessions, we’ve learned that it's impossible to thoroughly declutter someone’s space without first getting them to slow down. And we don’t just mean pausing on emails or online shopping for the day but making a habit of clearing up space in their days.

Busyness happens when we stop saying no to things.

From where we're standing, busyness is one of the most pervasive and relentless diseases in modern culture. While it may give us a fleeting sense of accomplishment and importance, in the long run, frenetic busyness leads to a profound lack of clarity.

Busyness happens when we stop saying no to things: actual physical items as well as relationships and commitments. It arises when we lose track (or have never clearly uncovered) what is most important in our lives.

Why busyness and clutter are inextricably linked.

Clutter is the result of busyness because it's the result of deferred decisions. Mess accumulates when we put off dealing with objects because we simply don’t have the time or energy. Clutter, in that sense, is physical manifestation of all the things we need to do (aka busywork).

Likewise, clutter is the cause of busyness. Having so much stuff for your space requires constant maintenance. Whether that maintenance is direct (managing things, searching for items, storing and maintaining them, purchasing new objects, working hard to afford more stuff) or indirect (distracting yourself with other forms of busyness instead of dealing with them), it fills our time.

The whole point of decluttering is freeing up time and energy to spend doing the things you actually want to do.

that the time and energy you save not managing and dealing with stuff is time and energy you can spend actually living life. You know, taking photos, being in nature, laughing with your favorite people, and making the world a better place by just being pleasantly not-busy.

So how can you end the cycle of busyness and all the clutter that comes with it?

1. Build in negative space.

We’ve all become so accustomed to "accomplishing things" that even previously relaxing periods of time (the moments before bed, the first light of the morning) are now used to Get Stuff Done. Instead, practice intentionally building in space. Walk your dog without a podcast blaring in your ears. Drive the car without talking on the phone.

2. Automate basic tasks.

Making decisions requires lots of time and energy. One of the simplest ways to create space and remove unnecessary busyness in the day is to automate your life, or remove active decision-making. Some great places to start? Eat the same smoothie or omelet for breakfast every morning. Create a work uniform that you feel great in so dressing each morning becomes effortless.

3. Take the time to figure out what you love.

It's hard saying no to things when you don't know what you want to shout YES to. But when you know how you want to feel, you'll know immediately, at your core, if that shirt or work commitment or relationship is serving you. Marie Kondo uses the standard of "spark joy," which is a great place to begin. Even more powerful? Taking the time to choose those feelings you personally desire most.

4. Say no to things that do not support your best life.

Clarity turns the process of decluttering, which can otherwise feel like a painful parting with things you used to love and items you might need someday, into an empowering—dare I say enjoyable?—exercise in shedding the things that are not adding to the life you want to create. When you know how you want to feel, you can easily identify the things that help you feel that way. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy that will allow you to live with more clarity.

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.

 

Click here to read this post in it's original format.

6 Things Everyone Gets Wrong About Minimalism

This article was originally published on mindbodygreen.com

Like yoga studios and juice cleanses, minimalism has evolved from a less glamorous past. Thinking about minimalism used to conjure up images of hard-lined living in sterile, monklike conditions. Lucky for all of us, the new brand of minimalism shows the trendy side of a life with less. Yet misconceptions about the age-old practice still exist, so let's debunk a few right now:

1. All minimalists are young bachelors.

While, yes, there are certainly a number of single dudes in their 20s and 30s living minimalist lives, there are also families large and small doing so, such as the Birch & Pine trio and Zen Habits home of eight. There are minimalist couples and roommates, minimalist baby boomers and millennials. Sure, it might be easier if you don't have to check with a friend, partner, or child before simplifying your home. But trust us, some of the most meaningful conversations you'll have with your living partners will come from deciding what a shared minimalist life will look like together.

2. Minimalist homes are nearly empty and void of color.

No way! Perhaps one thing that most minimalists have in common is a reverence for items that are as functional as they are beautiful. It all boils down to being thoughtful and selective about your décor and surrounding yourself with things you love. This pretty much always equates to a home rich in personality and history.

3. You must own fewer than a certain number of possessions to be a true minimalist.

This is a false trap that I fell into early in my minimalism adventures when I decided to own only 100 things. When you focus on counting your possessions, you lose the greater mission: to live mindful, intentional, beautiful lives. There is no set number of items that can get you there. Instead, try to focus on a sensation: lagom. This Swedish word is sometimes translated as "enough," but it actually means "just the right amount." The best part of lagom is that it is inherently personal and fluid. Everyone decides what the right amount is for them.

4. Minimalists must wear the same thing every day.

To be fair, some minimalists do swear by a more uniform approach to dressing. However, you can also be a minimalist who is passionate about clothing and personal style. To embody minimalism and maintain a sense of personal style, you simply do so from a smaller pool of options.

5. Minimalism is self-centered because it's primarily about focusing on yourself and space.

While minimalism might start in your closet or your kitchen, it's actually a part of a greater ethos of community and global sustainability. As you cut down on your items, you can donate the ones that no longer serve you to local nonprofits. (Soup kitchens take unexpired food, kindergartens take basic art supplies and paper, women's shelters accept toiletries, etc.) You will notice that you begin to care more about objects, how they're made, and what they represent. Plus, as you pare down, it will shift your purchases moving forward and change how you approach consumerism in general.

6. There is only one way to be a minimalist.

True minimalism is inherently unique: It's about you, your experience, your truth, your goals. Where you live, who you live with, how you spend your time, what you're passionate about—all of it should be taken into account. The only time minimalism doesn't work is when you try to follow someone else's version of it. Feel free to try the strategies that others recommend, but let some stick and others fade away. At the end of the day, whether your home is quiet and white or an explosion of color and brimming with people is totally up to you.

You can read the article in it's original form on mindbodygreen.

Question Everything

A while back, I celebrated my 32nd birthday.  I'm not a big birthday person in terms of celebrations or big get togethers. I prefer my birthday be a time for reflection, for rest and re-filling my tank, and for thinking about my next year in a meaningful way.

Not the most flattering angle, but damn are we happy to be in the redwoods!

Not the most flattering angle, but damn are we happy to be in the redwoods!

As the first gift to myself, I planned a long weekend for Cam and myself up in Humboldt County.  We stayed in a small studio on a farm in the college town of Arcata, and then spent our days in one of my very favorite places on earth: Prairie Creek Redwoods.

This is one of the few places in the world containing miles and miles of virgin Coastal Redwoods. To stand next to a 2,000 year old 350 foot tall living thing is to be humbled and feel awe like you can't imagine.  I've also determined that Redwoods are my spirit animal, so it felt good to spend quality time with my tribe :)

The second big wish I had for my birthday was for Cam and I to sit down and look, in detail, at our personal finances. I joyfully dubbed this night "The 1st Annual Fortin Family Financial Summit."

I've not written about money matters on the blog before, but my passion for minimalism has always been inextricably linked to personal finance.  My journey began in 2009 with desire for more meaningful work which led me to leave my corporate job and the associated corporate paycheck (aka: I was broke).  With far less cash on hand, I had to drastically increase my standards for every purchase, large or small.  This meant reevaluating habits I'd picked up in high-earning days as well as more under the radar habits I'd had my entire life. 

In other words, it was Through Minimalism that I learned to question everything.

Financially speaking, there are cultural assumptions that are made for us and ingrained into us from birth:

  • Work until you are 65.  

  • Upgrade your phone/computer/tv as soon as you have space on your credit card.  

  • Save 5% of your annual income. 

  • Buy as big a house as your mortgage lender says you can afford.  

  • Treat yourself to luxury goods and services -- you've worked so hard, you deserve it.  

  • Buy your kids the newest toys for each birthday and holiday, that's how you show love.  

  • Constantly revamp your wardrobe, you need to keep up with the newest trends.  

These messages are sent to us constantly via advertising, but they're also taught to us in school and pervade most new sources.  When we're constantly fed these opinions they gain the weight of fact; they seem unavoidable, inalterable.  

But as we all learn by living simple, gentle lives: it's not true. You get to choose your life and you get to decide how you spend your time and how you spend your money.  

This is a gratuitous photo of my handsome husband with a mushroom the size of his head.

This is a gratuitous photo of my handsome husband with a mushroom the size of his head.

Let's take Retirement Calculators as an example.  

These are meant to be completely unbiased, strictly mathematical tools to give you a clear picture of your retirement.  If you visit the websites of some of the most respected financial institutions in the US you'll find the impenetrable assumptions that total strangers have made for you.  

And while those above assumptions seem reasonable enough, there is something maleficent lurking below the surface.  When enough people begin to say something is impossible (saving 71% of your income, not producing any trash, retiring at 30) that begins to seem true.  And when things seem impossible, we begin to give away our power, believing we cannot control what we own or how we spend our time or money. 

This calculator, for example, maxes out at $60,000 saved annually, no matter your level of income.  It further won't let you spend less than 60% of your current income in retirement or retire earlier than 50 not matter what.

This calculator, for example, maxes out at $60,000 saved annually, no matter your level of income.  It further won't let you spend less than 60% of your current income in retirement or retire earlier than 50 not matter what.

The first thing Kyle and I do with our clients is get an understanding of how they most want to feel in their space and the highest values they would like their home to support. We cannot walk in and say "get rid of this plate" or "you must keep that painting" because we know that every person, family, and home is unique.  

After this introductory fact-finding, we assess each and every item with fresh eyes, determining whether it should stay or be donated based on how well it serves those highest values and desire.  

With expenses, as with stuff, the first step is to question everything.

That is the strategy that Cam and I are practicing in our finances now -- starting from a place of compassionate curiosity and questioning everything that we're spending money on.  Try starting from scratch without any of these limitations or beliefs.  Dream up your own ideal future and then reconstruct your finances with that vision in mind.

For me, the journey to personal finance devotee has been -- wait for it -- fun, joyful even. When I was making and spending a lot of money in my corporate days, I dedicated most of my waking hours to something I hated in order to buy things that meant very little to me. When I decided to leave the misery and the money of corporate work behind, for the first time I had a clean slate to determine exactly what a good budget for myself might be.

As I delved into minimalism, I was constantly asking myself: "Can I live without this?", "Does this really bring me joy?", and "Is this something that I actively am choosing for myself or just something that I've always done?" This line of questioning can be applied to anything: habits, relationships, stuff, spending, all of it.

Moral of the story: Question Everything.

Want to learn more?  Check out some of my favorite personal finance resources:

Friends in the news!

Lastly, a huge congratulations to Joshua Becker of Becoming Minimalist on his new book The More of Less.  We pre-ordered this book a while ago, knowing it would become a crucial part of our own micro-library.  We wholeheartedly recommend to anyone looking for both inspiration and compassion on their journey to becoming a minimalist! 

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.

 

Let Go of "Just In Case"

To date, Kyle and I have spent thousands of hours working with clients guiding and helping them declutter their homes.  We've probably spent even more time still speaking with each other and friends and acquaintances and colleagues about minimalism.

And do you want to know the single pain point which comes up the most?  

Just. In. Case.

Often it shows up to in response to me suggesting that someone might prefer to donate an item they've never used / don't particularly like / wish they'd never purchased to begin with.  

(Think: a third box of 2,000 staples in a paperless office, a dress with tags on purchased 2 sizes too small, a stack of old and unread magazines which just might hold an article or photo that might be referred to if they end up deciding to learn to sew after all.)

With an incredulous stare, I get back the questions: "But what if I need it someday?" or "Shouldn't I keep it, you know, just in case?" 

I'm not going to argue that you will 100% guaranteed never need any of these items again.  

That would be pointless.  I'm not a fortune teller and I cannot know the intricacies of your life moving forward.  But I am going to encourage you to let go these "just in case" items anyway.  

 

3 Reasons to Let Go of "Just In Case" Objects.

1. Consider the costs of keeping the item.  Anytime a particular topic or idea shows up across all spectrums of lifestyles and situations, it signals to me that something very human is going on.  And the truth is that biologically speaking, humans have evolved to be more motivated to avoid pain than to seek joy.  Meaning that as a species we're naturally going to give more weight to fear of having to potentially re-acquire something than the pleasure of an uncluttered space.  

What our lizard brain is not considering, however, is the hidden pain of keeping so much stuff around.  We don't consider what a burden it is to maintain and upkeep these items.  We don't consider all of the physical and mental space they take up.  We forget about the hard, crappy decisions we have to make (like spending a gorgeous weekend cleaning up the garage or not moving to a new space because there isn't enough storage) in service of these items that we don't even use.

2. Experience the under-acknowledged joy of knowing what you don't have.  Imagine I ask you to find an old, semi-functioning raincoat you've kept just in case...  You would maybe look in your regular closet.  Then the coat closet.  Then perhaps with your stored winter gear.  Then perhaps check your camping bin.  Or maybe it's with your costumes under the bed?  Or is it possible that you leant it to a friend awhile back?  Or maybe it is in the coat closet in the way, way back?  20 minutes later you're sweaty, frustrated and still don't know where the raincoat is.  

If instead you make a habit of releasing excess items, you'll know right away what you have and where it is -- and you'll also know right away when you don't have something.  Rather than wasting time searching, you can jump right into reacquiring, borrowing, substituting, or making do without.  It is liberating.

3. Leave room for yourself to grow.  Whenever we hold onto items "just in case," we're locking our future selves into a certain way of being.  One of the most beautiful things about being human is that we are constantly evolving as people.  Our habits, priorities, and hobbies shift and vary as we continue through life.  When you hold onto old items "just in case" you're committing to staying in place, to having those same exact interests or to living in the same space.  When you let go of those items you are giving yourself permission to be flexible and flowing, to grow and change.

So what do you think?  Could you donate some of the things you've been holding onto "just in case?" Do you have any strategies that have worked for you in the past?  

 

Ending the Cycle of Busy

Image // via Steep Ravine

Image // via Steep Ravine

One of our stated principles at New Minimalism is to break the cycle of busyness.  

Busyness has become among the most pervasive and relentless dis-eases of our modern culture because it gives to us a few things we value so desperately: the sensation of accomplishment and the appearance of importance.  

But what this constant, frantic, frenetic busyness actually represents is a profound lack of clarity.

Busyness happens when we stop saying no to things -- actual physical items as well as relationships, commitments of our time/energy/resources.  It arises when we lose track (or have never clearly uncovered) what is most important and most desired in our lives.  

Why, as Declutterers and Designers, do Kyle and I care so much about how people spend their time? Why do we worry about busyness when we ought to be worried about stuff?

Because busyness and clutter are inextricably tied to one another -- they both are the root cause and result of each other.  

1) Clutter is the result of busyness.  

Clutter is deferred decisions -- things we put off for the future because we don't have time to deal with them now.  Clutter is physical manifestation of all the things we need to do.  

2) And clutter is the cause of busyness.  

Having too much stuff for your space requires constant maintenance, which takes time.  Whether that maintenance is direct (managing things, searching for items, storing and maintaining them, purchasing new objects) or indirect (distracting yourself with other forms of busyness instead of dealing with them), it fills our time.

The whole point of having a clutter-free life is that the time + energy you save not managing and dealing with stuff is time + energy you can spend actually living life.  

You know, doing things like:

  • being in nature,

  • snuggling with the people/pets/blankets you love,

  • taking photos,

  • meditating,

  • learning languages,

  • building machines, 

  • writing books,

  • composing songs,

  • knitting hats,

  • eating oysters,

  • laughing with your favorite people,

  • being an activist for your most important causes,

  • hanging with your kids,

  • volunteering in your neighborhood, or

  • making the world a better place by just being pleasantly not-busy while wandering about.  

So how to end the cycle of busyness and all the nasty-ass clutter that comes with it?  

1. Take the time to figure out what you love.  

It's hard time saying no to things when you don't know what you want to shout YES! to.  But when you know how you want to feel, you know immediately, at your core, if this shirt or work commitment or relationship makes you feel that way.

Marie Kondo uses the standard of “spark joy” which is a great place to begin.  Even more powerful?  Taking the time to choose those feelings you personally desire most

2. Say no to relationships / events / objects / experiences that do not support you in living your most desired life.  

Clarity turns the process of decluttering -- which otherwise can feel like a painful parting with things you used to love and items you might need someday -- into an empowering, dare I say enjoyable, exercise in shedding the things that are not adding to the life you want to create.

It’s a self fulfilling prophecy, a positive spiral.  When I know how I want to feel, I can easily identify which things help me feel that way.  Which allows me to experience those feelings more frequently, with greater depth, and with greater clarity.  Which makes it that much easier to determine if something is in fact aligned with those desires.

So, please tell me, how do you most want to feel in your life?

Look, I want to love this world
as though it’s the last chance I’m ever going to get
to be alive
and know it.
— Mary Oliver, "October"

Want more?  

The Desire Map by Danielle LaPorte

The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo (and our review of that book here)

Drastically Increase Your Standards

The average American home has 300,000 items inside it.  Three hundred thousand things.  

How many of those things do we use in an average day?  Month?  Year?

How many of those things do we love?  How many "spark joy"?  How many support us in becoming our best and fullest selves?

My guess: very, very few.  

Clutter builds up when we stop making decisions about our stuff.  

Rather than choose which wrapping paper we like most, we buy all 13 rolls in a jumbo package. Rather than donate clothing that no longer fits, we hang it back up "in case I need it." Rather than recycle back issues of a magazine, we stick it on the shelf to read "later."

It's those items -- the ones that we don't use or love or need -- which slowly fill our closets and drawers, our garages and attics.  

Those are the items that make it hard to see the painting on the wall that you do love, hard to find your one snuggliest pair of ski socks, hard to clear off the table to share a meal with the people you love.

When we work with our clients, the first thing we do is touch each and every item to decide what stays and what goes.  

The end result is a simple, easy to maintain, spacious and inspiring home.  

But make no mistake, it's real work to make a decade's worth of decisions about your wardrobe (or kitchen or living space) in one morning.   

And unfortunately, things don't stop trying to enter our homes after these purges.  Birthdays, holidays, malls, sales, heirloom items -- these occasions for clutter to re-enter your home will continue to occur.

The easiest way to ensure that you're not sorting another 300,000 items in 10 years?  

Nip the clutter in the bud by having extremely high standards for what you allow into your home.

 

3 ways to be radically more selective about what you allow into your space:

1) Say "Thank you, no."  

Gifts, hand-me-downs, goodie bags and freebies are among the most pernicious items that continually attempt to enter our homes.  Acknowledge the kindness of whoever is attempting to give you that corporate logo-filled mug or give your child a plastic bag full of small plastic things.  Then warmly say "Thank you, but I actually don't need any ____ today!" and continue on with your clutter-free day.

2) Shop mindfully.  

Stores are designed to make us pick up last minute items.  Brilliant folks with PhD's have spent decades learning about how to appeal to our senses and override our natural decision making process so that we leave the store with a dozen extra items never knew we "needed" until right now.  

Be prepared: have a list, know exactly what you are looking for, and create a budget for non-necessary items.

3) Always remember your big goals, hopes and dreams.  

When you are faced with having a new item brought into your space, determine right away if the object supports the greater lifestyle that you are creating for yourself.  If it's a no, immediately into the donation bin it goes!