The Downsizing Diaries...

I've been on an extra strong urge to purge kick this year. I go through cycles of letting go as well as cycles of acquiring new items to go along with new hobbies or interests or style choices. The seasonal practice of assessing my physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual clutter is nothing new for me. However, this year, it seems like the need to let go of physical items has been especially strong.

I've sorted through stacks of old keepsakes and piles of ill-fitting clothes. Baskets full of beauty products that were less than stellar for me. Boxes full of items I rarely if ever use. Boxes and boxes have left my house. Bags and bags of trash and recycling have been left curbside as my quest to evaluate and downsize continues. Even with as much as I've culled and tossed and moved on to a new home, I still feel as though I am surrounded by and weighed down by too much stuff.

Too. Much. STUFF.

Things.

Worldly possessions that, on their own, don't really mean much, especially if they are not task-oriented.

Yet, I have to give myself a pep talk as I move along. Do I really see myself using this again? Wearing it more than once a year? Wanting to have it around at all, taking up valuable real estate in my closet. In my brain? In my life?

I find that my low key and my "ooh, shiny" selves are in conflict. The curse of being both brained, I suppose, is fitting ease and extravagance into one personality. I am both theatrical and practical, and at a certain point, that becomes a challenge to navigate in the sorting stuff seas. Exactly how many jackets and necklaces and pairs of heels does a person need? (Okay, "need" may in and of itself be an exaggeration.)

How much is just enough? Where is the line of "too much"?

Maybe the line of too much is when the stress around figuring out how to clean it, store it, or move it makes my eye twitch.

And so, I have a newer question for myself when it comes to my next phase...

If this item up and vanished tomorrow, how long would it take me to notice? Once I noticed, how much would I care?

In order to exercise my way through this question, some items I'm on the fence about are going into totes, those totes are going up on a high shelf once full, and I'm going to put a sticky note on it for when the tote was stored. If I pull the tote down and take an item out, that item can stay out. For anything that remains, I'll do a seasonal reassessment. If it's still there a year from now and makes it through pulling it purposefully or beyond the seasonal culling, it's a sign it needs to go.

So, what about acquisition of new things? Again, I have to ask myself...

How much is just enough? Where is the line of "too much"?

A couple of months ago, I urged friends and family to opt for bonding time, meals together, or donations on my behalf rather than physical gifts for my birthday or the holidays. I requested presence instead of presents. For those that still enjoy receiving physical gifts, a few folks may receive treasured items that I've enjoyed for a time and will hopefully bring them great joy as well.

On the practical day-to-day side, I've already put some limits in place. For makeup and the like, it must all fit in my one designated case. If I want something new and there is no room left, something must get used up, tossed, or re-homed. All clothes, shoes, and costumes must fit on my side of the closet and in my designated drawers. Bath products must fit in a limited cabinet space. Each type of item has a footprint or a container, and if that space is full, it's time to sort and purge. In time, I may decide that those allotted spaces should be smaller to create further boundaries on buying and storing.

At the end of the day, I'm downsizing for what may seem like a surprising reason: abundance.

Less things to maintain allows for an abundance of time and energy for other joys.
Less stuff to organize means more organizational skill toward career or creative endeavors.
Less items taking up space leads to an abundance of space and air and lightness of spirit.
Less purchases means abundance in my budget for experiences and adventures.
Less care needed for worldly possessions opens up more abundance of care for myself and others.
Less focus on acquisition frees up focus on the abundance I already have.

When I began this sorting snowball earlier this year, I went on memory journeys as I read through and then tossed old cards and letters. I felt the joy of giving what I once wanted to someone who needed it more. I've seen friends twirling in former frocks and enjoyed the laughter induced by an amusing book that once lived on my shelves. These feelings are familiar. And enjoyable. And while I'm sure I'll make monetary donations or find ways to give supplies now and then...

Selfishly, I'm looking forward to the abundant lightness to come.

When I have curated my collection so well that what I give most is my time and energy. The usefulness of my hands. The love from my heart.

Thankfully, none of which require boxes, labels, extra lifting, coordinating pickup times, or figuring out how to fit everything into my car.

Usually.