The normal clutter of daily life in my house seems to have multiplied since we were blanketed in snow just a week ago today. Three official Snow Days had the children at home, and books, games, arts & crafts materials, newspapers, wet gloves, window-scraping implements, waterproof trousers, the camera, bills to pay, letters to be written, Valentine's Day cards to be made, plastic alien figures and magazines have all seemed to deposit themselves between the front door and my desk in the kitchen.
I am not going to pretend that the snow storm last Monday brought the clutter to our household, or that it isn''t largely my own doing, but now even I am feeling hemmed in by the sheer quantity of stuff that is resident in my cottage. I am not, at the best of times, ruled by the god of minimalism. I have a fondness for old magazines and newspaper articles that I "might need someday."
I admit that I have a hard time throwing things away. Both of my children are prolific artists. Who needs a shredder when you have two kids who draw on the back of every reject from my printer? It's lovely, but also a bit of a nightmare, especially when you cannot independently tell apart the successful drawings of aliens from the rejects. "Mom, that's one of my best ones!" I am now afraid to discard anything their pens have touched in case it turns out to be the one the Tate Gallery would have paid over the odds for. I also like cosy pieces of clothing that are so old, used, washed and tumble-dried that they are misshapen and could never be worn outside the house. I regularly go in to our give-away bag to retrieve something that my husband has persuaded me to retire. But this must stop!
I want the sense of peace you get when you cast your eye over clean expanses of table top and floor. I don't want to have a wrestling match every time I go into the coat closet. And for once, I don't want to feel fear in the pit of my stomach when I am asked to find something I haven't seen in days, weeks or even months (Gd forbid it is a bill, a cheque, a store voucher, or my passport.)
I actually thought I had gotten better these past few months. I asked everyone I knew to come take away portions of my large magazine collection, which dated back to a Martha Stewart Living issue from 1993. I gave 3 years worth of France magazine to a friend who dreams of living there some day. But, when it came to my beloved Psychologies, Conde Nast Traveller, Gourmet, Travel & Leisure, Homes and Gardens, and Easy Living (let's not even talk about my issues of Oprah), I had to leaf through each one first to rescue articles, recipes and pretty pictures that might get used in a collage someday. We now have about 100 magazines in the house, down from an all-time high of about 500. I fell a little anxiety, like a ping pong ball caught in my throat, just thinking about my commitment to clear all but about 20. Scary.
As a life coach, I'm supposed to know how to handle this problem, right? Focus, prioritize, strategize, take action, follow through and achieve the desired result. That would be fine, except that I haven't truly cared enough until now. What my husband called clutter, I called comfort zone. So, I needed motivation; an extra kick up the backside. What better than our deepening financial crisis? I am actually quite pragmatic when push comes to shove, so I started sorting, photographing and pricing the children's old books and games for sale on Gumtree. Photos I have stored on the computer have been printed out on plain copy paper to fill all of the rustic wood frames that were such a bargain A YEAR AGO. Pots of dessicated fresh herbs have been emptied and cleaned out. Hundreds of coloured markers have been sorted and the dried out, capless ones have been chucked. Oh, and my dirty secret; skin care samples have been removed from the bottom of every handbag and put in my travel bag, in case I ever get to go away for the weekend again.
I wouldn't say that I have completely succeeded, just yet. Indeed, if you didn't know better, you might still think my house is cluttered. It's a work in progress. Anyway, I can see the difference. I am going to set a new time frame for Stage Two. I have plenty of time; the February rains have just begun yesterday. See; the British weather does serve some greater purpose.
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