This week my garage floor is being repaired and repainted, which required removal of every single item therein. I am nerding out with excitement about going through everything, recycling or jettisoning what no longer serves, and organizing what’s left. The only thing I love more than lists is curating my environment. I’ve been this way since I was a child, and yes, we could attribute it to my acquired need to try to impose order on chaos, but I also think it might be an innate part of my wiring.
Over the years, the methods to my madness have evolved. For a long time I simply attempted to contain all of my possessions neatly without giving any thought to what I had, why I had it, and how I used it. (The Container Store profited greatly.) That hot pink linen suit I wore to work eons ago. The things my parents didn’t want but thought I should. The books I was never going to read again. The craft supplies that I never wanted to dig out because I kept them in the garage. Over time, I’ve become fairly ruthless about first removing anything that isn’t serving me now (pro tip: leaving the marital home with next to nothing gives one a great head start), and then organizing what remains in a way that supports the way I actually live. This is what has transformed a previously driven, rearranging-deck-chairs-on-the-Titanic, Sisyphean sort of exercise into a joyful, fulfilling hobby that both contributes to and mirrors my increasingly joyful life.
Not long ago, I wondered if I’d done such a good job that I would soon run out of fun projects. I needn’t have worried, as life’s constant changes continue to provide plenty of opportunity. And, as one tends to do with favored hobbies, I’ve become more proficient and creative over time. Reading just about everything published on decluttering, simplifying, and organizing in the hopes of gleaning even one more helpful nugget has also upped my game. Not long ago, I read about a concept that I absolutely love: quieting.
Quieting is a marvel for both those overwhelmed by clutter and those who run a tight ship. It requires a short investment of time yet results in subtle but powerful energy shifts and noticeable improvements. And it’s so simple:
Choose a small area (a drawer, a desk, an entryway, a nightstand) you’d like to quiet.
I recently chose the bookshelves next to my desk in my bedroom. It felt like there were too many books and other items crammed in there. It looked messy, and it prevented me from really seeing, thus using or enjoying, what was there.
Remove everything from that area to a separate area nearby.
I put everything on my bed.
Clean or dust the now empty area.
I pulled out the shelves, vacuumed around them, then wiped them down.
Handle each item and make a decision as to whether you want to keep it, recycle it, or toss it.
I recycled books that I would not read again (or that I could find at the library if needed) and tossed a couple of items that were broken or no longer meaningful to me.
Remove items to be recycled or tossed immediately.
Recycling went in the trunk of the car and tossed items in the trash can.
Make a statement about the function of the area.
I decided that the function of the bookshelves was to keep useful reference books to hand and to display a few well chosen artifacts of my life. Since they face my bed, I wanted them to be visually appealing and restful.
Identify items that don’t serve that function and rehome them immediately.
I moved non-reference books and a few keepsakes to other locations.
Now you’re left with only the items you’ve decided truly belong in this area and a blank canvas. This is the time to play; to envision alternatives before you commit. With minimal effort, you will have recharged the area’s energy and accentuated what is most important to you.
I decided to make smaller groupings of my reference books and intersperse them with pieces of art or keepsakes. The books I use most often are now in arm’s reach, and the things I love most are now highly visible. I even rediscovered several items that renewed my interest in previously forgotten subjects. The bookshelves are at once “quieter” and more vibrant.
It wasn’t a great leap to contemplate how the evolution of my organizing philosophy paralleled my life’s journey. For so many years, I just tried to contain the chaos. I didn’t question anything and I accepted everything, and everyone, that came my way. When I started to look around and realize my life was a mess, I was too overwhelmed to muster the fortitude for the complete makeover I knew deep down was necessary. My decluttering phase, both material and spiritual, was finally accomplished via implosion (not necessarily something I’d recommend, but ultimately a gift). Since then, I’ve been learning to carefully consider the elements of my life just as I consider those of my environment.
I let go of so much: the relationship that was mostly illusion, the family I thought I’d built, my social network, a way of life. As time went on, I had to let go of more: my hope for my extended family’s understanding or approval, my many thought distortions and self-loathing, a few unhealthy relationships. There came a time where, just as with my new home, I thought I was “done” (it may take me forever to grasp the concept of change as a constant). But I’m finding there’s even more to “quiet” in a life than in a home. Even more relatively easy ways to reduce the noise, renew my energy, and center what’s important to me.
These days I’m periodically evaluating everything in my life: my relationships, especially the one with myself; my habits and routines; my beliefs. There are things I’ve tossed completely, like gossiping or having my phone near me during sleep. There are things I decided to keep but assign a much lower priority to, like drinking and passive entertainment. These occasional recalibrations free up time and mental energy and allow the things that are most important to me (connection, self-care, spirituality) to become the mainstay of my days. I am carefully curating a life that is happy beyond my wildest dreams.
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Let’s talk! Are there areas of your environment or your life you’d like to quiet? What’s your biggest obstacle?