Let it go

Now that the title has got a catchy song stuck in your head, let me tell those unfamiliar with my journey about how I got into decluttering. Back in 2016, I gave in to the hype and listened to The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo. I will readily admit that some parts of it are pretty darn hokey, but much of that is cultural and religious unfamiliarity than any fault in her methodology. For being such an organized-minded person, you'd think my physical spaces would reflect order. But I've been living with the dissonance of loving peaceful, uncluttered spaces combined with my continual relapse into covering all horizontal surfaces with stuff that it would then lead me to an explosive cleaning frenzy...rinse repeat.

Hokey or not, something about Marie's method just clicked which led me to spend most of 2016 taking carload after carload to donate, sell, or trash. I kept a tally somewhere, but have since discarded it. (Ha!) Suffice to say, it was a lot of stuff. I was able to get rid of an entire bookcase full of books and pass on the bookcase to a friend. My closet was drastically reduced and even had extra space. Some of the cupboards in the kitchen were a bit more roomy. Looking back, I can see how all of it made space for a certain farmer who came back into my life in 2017. There was now space in the old house closet for another occupant. The removal of the bookcase made space for his piano and heirloom desk to move in.

However, the whirlwind romance year of reconnecting, dating, getting engaged and planning a wedding halted the minimization journey. This year though, I wanted to get back into the thick of it. For those familiar with the Konmari method, I made it through the first two categories, but got bogged down in the paperwork and miscellaneous stuff and junk. I took some time off in April and confronted some of the sentimental stuff in the attic...then remembered that I also have boxes in my Abuelos basement that need sorting still... o.0 ...It's amazing how a material caravan just seems to grow and grow over the years!

For inspiration this year, I have listened to Joshua Becker's Minimalist Home, Peter Walsh's Let It Go, part of John de Gaaf's Affluenza, and am now re-listening to Marie Kondo's Life-Changing Magic. As I pause to write this, there is half a carload waiting to go to Goodwill and I've scheduled a few days off later this month to tackle some larger discarding and sorting missions. Going through Marie's book again has reminded me of a few of the lessons decluttering has taught me about my relationship with stuff and how it affects no only the physical world, but my spiritual life as well. Here are the top four:

Fear

The passage that has stayed with me the longest in my decluttering journey is succinctly summarized by Marie herself: "When we really delve into the reasons for why we can't let something go there are only two: an attachment to the past or a fear for the future." It's a question I revisit when I am feeling like I can't let something go--sentimental or not. Am I afraid I will lose my memories if I let that stack of cards go? Am I afraid I won't have enough blankets to stay warm next winter? The most frequent command in the Bible is "do not be afraid," and almost every time God follows it with how He will act, provide, and meet needs. Whom (or what) shall I fear? I don't want our home to be a temple of fear. I want to live in a space that speaks of love, joy, and peace--a sanctuary. That starts with letting go the items and objects that, upon closer inspection, harbor fears, worry, and distrust in my ultimate Provider.

Scarcity vs. Abundance

Closely related to the fear above, I'm prone to live with a scarcity mindset. I hoard...er protect...my time, my energy, my resources, my emotions, and, as an extension of that, my stuff. Part of that is related to my personality type I was born with, and part of it I'm sure was nurtured. I still keep cool whip containers and miscellaneous jars that come my way just in case. You never know when you'll need to store 20 pounds of screws and won't have the perfect box on hand! Nothing like being 100% prepared at all times to make me feel safe, secure, self-reliant, and independent. The only problem with that is that's not how God designed us to live. We're called to be generous, open-handed, and available. God promises to bless abundantly (II Corinthians 9:8), provide more than I could even ask (Ephesians 3:8), and even restore lost years (Joel 2). Being prepared isn't wrong, but not pursuing the Kingdom because I'm avariciously holding onto resources is. Letting go of items that arouse my scarcity mindset slowly heals my soul one pen, paperclip, or box at a time.

Gratitude

Decluttering isn't solely based all on fear, scarcity, and contemplating my sinful nature. There is an undercurrent of joy found in gratitude. Marie Kondo recommends thanking our stuff itself as we let items go, which, to me, is more like worshiping the provision and not the provider. But thanksgiving rightly focused changes the tone of letting go. Thank You for providing this ____ that made this event special. Thank You for the relationship with _____ who gave me this item. Thank You for the priceless memories this ____ evokes. Thank You for the lessons I learned when I used _____. There's a season and time for everything under the sun (Ecclesiastes 3). Looking back with gratitude and thanksgiving while letting go of things no longer useful in the presents opens the way for an unburdened future.

Imagination

While nostalgia is definitely a huge component of confronting 30 years of material possessions, imagining my ideal future gives focus to my efforts. If I want my future life to involve move time for reading, contemplating, homesteading, porch-sitting, and so on that the means I won't want to spend precious hours dusting this trinket, maintaining this gadget, or moving clutter off the table so we can actually eat with friends and family. In truth, I have no idea what the future holds, but God gave us passions, dreams, and skills for use not decoration. I want to be unfettered when I see the next step in His story.