minimalism

You Do not Need a Single Moment of Clarity to Find Value in Minimalism

I am going to be completely up front about this.

I have never had a singular moment of clarity relating to Minimalism, or certainly not one that I can remember as being “THE” moment.

What I have experienced are moments of peace, calm and wellbeing as I let go of the excess in my life.

Those moments are precious.

The Clutter Felt Like Too Much to Deal With

About 15 years ago I noticed that when I was super stressed out, I wanted to tidy up and essentially purge the house of all the mess and clutter.

The clutter felt like too much to deal with, and far too much to think about.

Eventually when sorting through the stuff, I was making decisions to get rid of the stuff, more and more.

When it got to my wedding dress, it was the most natural decision to make. No agonising. I was not going to wear it again. It had served its purpose.

I was unsure why this felt easy, I even asked my husband if I was doing the right thing. Being the sensible sort of fellow he is. He said it was unlikely I would ever wear it again and that he did not see much point in holding onto it.

It was time to let go.

I let go.

And I kept letting go.

First, I let go of the easy things, such as old paperwork and notepads.

Then the old clothes and schoolwork.

Then came the gradual reduction of everyday things. Making the decision whether an item “added value” to my life or whether it was just getting in the way of living.

Were the things I brought into my life worth the price tag? The real price of not just the time to earn the funds to buy the item, but the time to clean and maintain it also?

The Chaos of Losing Things

My desire to organise, purge, and to let go, more than likely stem from my surroundings as a child.

There was always stuff. Piles of stuff, boxes of stuff. Stuff that found a spot and then never moved from that spot.

It was a struggle to locate certain items. There was the chaos of losing things, of not being able to find things, and as time when on, of not being able to use the space because the house was full of stuff.

My mother really did try her best, but was clearly overwhelmed and lacked an adequate support system to help her through the difficulties of the situation. The emotional turmoil that she had been living through, was too great for her to overcome.

After the Death of My Mother

It was only after the death of my mother four years ago during the pandemic; I realised that by having so much stuff she had created a sort of security net around her. Her most precious items were hidden away so that even she did not really know where they were. They were “safe” because they were hidden.

Her precious items were photographs and letters. Even with a house full of stuff. Overfull with stuff, most of it was worthless. There were no hidden riches or treasures. Just those most priceless of items, photographs, journals, and documents. Most of these I had never seen, and by the time I did find them after an endless clearance of the other things, it was too late to ask about the stories behind them. The memories and the tales. It was all far too late. Because my dear mother was gone.

There I was, dealing with this insurmountable grief, dealing with the complexities of family relationships and at the same time clearing out a house that was full from floor to ceiling and even into the attic with tonnes and tonnes of stuff.

Every single item had to be checked. Everything had to be gone through carefully. There were photographs hidden within books, amongst papers and even inside bags. Things in the unlikeliest of places.

The stuff lacked order, or at least none that I could discern. Precarious piles that could collapse if due care and attention was not given to their construction.

Mountains of dust. You really cannot clean sufficiently when your house is full of stuff. Even the cleanest of people cannot keep a clean house when living in that environment.

Whilst I do not think it was as bad as that in our household when I was a child. It progressively got worse as the years passed. The sad thing about the situation was that the stuff pushed me away from spending time with my mother in her house.

It felt unsafe for me to bring my children (her grandchildren) over as there was no room to play. It was dusty and felt dirty. I was worried that a pile of stuff was going to fall onto my precious children. So, I rarely brought them over, and the contact was much less than it could have been.

I felt overwhelmed when entering her house because I could not say or do anything that would help her. I was a supportive daughter but knew I could not just go in there and clean because that would have been the worst betrayal of her trust. I loved her and cared about her and did not want to upset her in that way. Plus, I knew that would have triggered her to become far worse.

I was careful not to give gifts of things. Instead, I gave perishable items or experiences. Mindful not to add to the mountains of stuff.

A year or so before her sudden death I remember talking to my husband about how devastated I will be when my mother passed away, and how I would be the one having to sort through everything, and how much I dreaded it.

In the months before her death my mother had started to make some progress. Small inroads into getting rid of items that were no longer wanted. I was so proud of her and her progress. So proud. I told her that and I saw how glad she was that I saw her progress.

In the end it was too late. There was too little time and when the end came it came suddenly and was a shock. Without the pandemic, we may have had some years ahead of us to work through this together.

Instead, now every single day when I remember my mother I try not to dwell on the grief, heartache, and the endless stuff I had to deal with. I try my best to remember the wonderful person that she was. Not the stuff that was left behind and the years it took to resolve.

Truth is, dealing with her death was far worse to go through, than I could ever have imagined. The grief was overwhelming most of the time.

I just had to get on with it.

The one person I needed to guide me through the process was gone. I needed her. It was too late.

Lessons Learned with Minimalism

I continue to minimise within my own household. I love the feeling of calm I get when I am home. There is very little excess stuff.

From borrowing books from the library so that I do not have to keep buying new. To realising I do not really want that many things anymore.

We have a home for everything from the remote control (drawer next to the sofa) to the junk mail (straight into the recycling).  

Having developed my minimalism muscle meant that I was ready to deal with my mother’s things.

First came the disposal of actual junk and rubbish. There was no less than 3 skips full and countless rubbish day collections and trips to the waste site. Then there was the estate sale of non-sentimental items which did not amount to very much at all.

The hardest part was sorting through things and distribution of items. Personal effects went back to the person they belonged to.

For photographs, documents, cards, VHS, Cassettes, and everything that could be digitised. I digitised them all. This took years, thousands of hours. The physical items were then primarily distributed to one of my siblings.

All I kept were a few small items and a digital copy of the files.

I have just a few items now from my mother’s house. Because the truth is I do not need things to remember her. I remember her every single day through the love she shared and how she made me feel.

I remember her. It is very easy now for me to look at a digital image rather than to look for a physical copy of a photograph which can be lost or destroyed.

I digitised those things so that all her children and grandchildren can have access to them. So that it is not dependent on one single person sharing an item. This was the final act of love I could show for my mother.

Each of her children have full digital copies and I hope that my siblings will also minimise their belongings so that they too will leave their children with a legacy that does not include the heartache of dealing with excess stuff.

I am determined to and have broken the cycle of stuff within my own family.

That brings me real joy.

Our focus is not stuff. Our focus is the quality time that we can spend together.

There will never be enough time. So, I choose to spend what little time I have in my life, living life to the fullest. Spending time with those I love, travelling and doing the things that I love to do.

Not focusing on stuff.

Not wasting money on stuff.

Focusing on the people and things I love, using my money to create wealth instead of buying stuff that will be tomorrow’s junk.

When we die we leave all of our things behind. We really cannot take anything with us.

Every single thing that we buy will have to be dealt with. If not by us, then by our loved ones or somebody else.

I intend for that last act of love to be one where I have prepared in the best way possible to ease that burden on my most precious loved ones. So that they can remember the fond memories and not having to deal with mountains of stuff.