I hate clutter. I have spent this week, once again, de-cluttering my wardrobe and my pantry and the desk and shelves and cupboards and both barns. As I have said to you a number of times I came to America with two suitcases of books, and journals and cameras and paintings wrapped in my clothes. So anytime my possessions raise themselves above that benchmark I feel a small worry of panic begin to edge itself into my gut.
Of course I don’t touch Johns things – they are not my department. But my clutter has to stay within strict parameters.
Have I written about this before.? I think about it so often as I work that I feel I must have written it or at least said it aloud. In the older of the old days people had very little. A couple of precious pots to cook in, a few changes of work clothes and a good set of clothes with a white shirt for funerals and weddings, probably your own funeral and wedding, hopefully not in that order. A few precious books, maybe a rolled up painting, some writing materials, a picture of your love and a good horse and all his associated harness and tack.
Then there was a period of rampant gathering. Our parents and their parents with the memory of such previous frugality and the surge of mass produced cheaper goods, hauled everything they could into their houses and shone it up and set it on the mantel or into large glass fronted cupboards. Then there was cheap plastic and crockery and massively mass produced books. After a thousand years of only a few treasures to a family now we have treasure amassed around us that some rooms in some homes are packed to the ceilings with such long forgotton possessions.
People hoard material things against fear. Stacked up against loneliness.
Like pigs who find a good feed and so begin gorging, because the evolution in their bodies reminds them that the hard times might be just around the corner, lay in some fat now.
I know people who have inherited all these things. I hear again and again from older people – what do we do with this ?- our children don’t want these things? – they are bewildered. My generation and the one that follows me has slimmed right down, we have not reverted to a trunk and a rocking chair and a saddle bag but we de-clutter, we try not to be held hostage to Things, refusing to believe that the spirits of our ancestors live in the collections of a hundred match boxes, or sea-shells, or cabbage shredders or gilt frames without pictures, or scrap books or old bed-heads, or china, or silver. Or even land and houses. We want to be freer- this is an old need, the need to go walkabout, to move, to be able to count what we have and what we own. To know where it is all sitting. To lighten up. All this ‘stuff’ hangs on us like a weight. It is it’s own fear. We become unhappy stewards. Holding onto it for the next generation who wants no part of it.
And that is good, isn’t it? That is not a rhetorical question so it deserves a question mark.
Of course it is the stories we should be collecting, the history, the names, and begats. And writing them down for the children. There is just too much ‘stuff’ to keep up with. Too many things now, too much. It dilutes the pure magic of an old photograph where you can point to every soul and name them for the children who sit upon your knee. Then turn that photo over and double check you are right because your grandmother wrote it down for you in fading blunt pencil on the back of the frame.
We have so much now. So many decorations. What really is important to you. What is really important for the next generation of children.
Have possessions taken the place of the old stories? Am I right though? Or disconnected. Or is it only me who feels this? Do people put less emphasis on the old things now? Or are they just buying quickly and discarding faster. Throwing things into a rubbish pile that if we were forced to keep in our own backyards would reach higher than our houses. Because nothing lasts now, most of it disposable. Maybe we should be holding on to the old stuff because soon there will be no stuff at all. That is another thought. No stuff. Not even printed photographs. Or cups with matching saucers.
I came to America with two suitcases and should my circumstances change I believe I could leave with two. I would take some books, (one of which would be my current read) my mothers paintings, my heart painting, two silver and crystal perfume bottles that belonged to my grandmother. My father’s Leica, my current camera, four cups, (two new, two old all handmade) the rare photo of all my children and I together in one place, the photo of John and I when we were 17 – the old ceramic mixing bowl that belonged to John’s grandmother, my rings, my bangles and my copper pots, and a contact sheet print that I photographed as a child with my fathers camera and printed myself, that details my entire family at a picnic on a summer day in Hawke’s Bay, New Zealand – I must have been ten or thereabouts and I have carried that print from country to country all my life since.
That is all I need. My footprints would not be too deep with that as my load. The rest must remain in the stories.
It has always been this way with me. This need to shed. Often I go travelling with two suitcases and when I come home I have packed one of the suitcases into the other – I have shed that much as I travel. Stuff lightens and floats away.
In Nineteen days I will pack my suitcases with parcels and gifts and go a’travelling again. This time to Australia and New Zealand. I will take you with me – my favourite travelling companions.
So keep your fingers crossed that the weather stays settled like this for a while longer.
I hope you have a lovely day.
celi
The book I have just finished: Thirteen Moons – Charles Frazier.
Movie I watched last night: Babettes Feast (and not for the first time).
The Kitchen's Garden 
77 responses to “The Clutter Goes”
I wish I could express myself like you. Cooking comes easy to me but words not so much. Like you, I am a wanderer by heart and need little . There are some things however that l love and need.
This is a very thoughtful and thought provoking post. I love your list of what will go with you. It’s like when we evacuated for a fire. You figure out quickly what is really important. I have my mother’s needlework and my parents china cabinet that was at one time filled with my MIL’s delicate bone china. It will be again once I paint the china cabinet more to my liking. Right now, it holds craft materials. Things to keep my hands and mind busy. I’m a collector of books and my home is a local lending library. I do have too much fabric but am making short work of moving that on too. Hoarding is something I didn’t understand in my nomadic life. It’s an illness I think, born of loss and trauma. I have a lot of stuff but will happily share with anyone who can make use of it. My son watched episodes of Hoarders while he packed out the home he had to sell when he lost his job to make it easier to let go of so much. A great deal was just given away. Many of us are feeling as you are right now. Clutter just doesn’t serve anyone. I don’t allow gifts that add to it anymore. Except for books of course.
It’s a sign, this post!! So many times people, Universe, nature provides “signs” to me. I have been de-cluttering, parting, giving away, and throwing away for a few days now. I’ve always been proficient at prioritizing and organizing, but not so good with parting ways of gifts I feel guilt to hang onto or things that were important to parents or grandparents who wanted someone else to have them – these cherished belongings. You have once again nailed it… these feelings and emotions that come with all of this clutter. I’m courageous today. I’m letting go. I feel freer than I have in a long time! 😀
🙂 🙂 🙂 Good for you!!! You’re right, it does take courage! But knowing someone else can use the things is a good feeling and also that you have ‘let go’ of somethings is a wonderful, freeing feeling too!!! 🙂 🙂 🙂
You put into words what I think. When my husband or I say that we didn’t get anything done all day because we spent time “cleaning the desk” it is the metaphorical desk. It may be the garage, the barn, all the clutter that piles up around my looms. I get to where I can’t function amid the clutter. But the other part of that, and more of what you’re talking about, is the STUFF that lingers or that just appeared…when your father-in-law moves to Hawaii and Everything That He Didn’t Take came here (including big pine cones from the yard). Good thing we have a burn pile. But what about the little stuffed animal that was your mother’s and she was born in 1916? I don’t really want it, but I sure can’t throw it out. (Maybe that’s just me and stuffed animals. I remember being very upset when Timmy was burying all of Lassie’s toys at the end of the second episode in which she was missing. That night I worried about the toys still being out in the big hole even though she had come bounding over the hill at the very end of the episode. ) I think it may be worse when you have a farm. Not only are there more places to put Stuff, but a lot of times you actually find uses for the Stuff later on…even if it’s 10 years later. But still that’s probably only about 5% of said Stuff.
Oh, clutter. When being young I had a strong wish not to possess more than what fits in a suitcase. I wanted to be free of all needless stuff to be able to change place in an instant. I did not want to be bound to one place. I wanted to be free. That’s funny – same thought as yours. OK – a dream of my younger days (I came to the big city with one suitcase, being 16). This dream ended when I got my first flat. The first thing ever I bought from my first own earned money was a hairdryer. To that point I did not have one, it was just not needed. And then, with every monthly income it went on and on and on…. Needed this, needed that. Wanted this, wanted that. – Now – living for years and years in that same city I am cluttered to the rim with stuff and cannot let go – all my books, my music, my crafts, my kitchen aids (my, my, my!), all that stuff that has accumulated until today…. Fits in a suitcase? Never… You’re so right with the “weight” that it has now.
But I remember well the good times that you are telling about, where there was a real special cloth and a real special pair of shoes for special days only and where we had meat, real meat only on Sundays. Poor but good old times, yes.
Last January I started with a nice web project, an “Appartment Therapy Tutorial” project called “The Cure”. I failed badly. Some things I kept in mind though like “Everything has it’s home”. And I made my “Outbox” for things one wants to get rid of. It still is not filled let alone emptied. Oh, they had lots of good hints…
Love the bird’s shot with the guinea fowls and Mr. Flowers’ gorgeous tail… And the pig’s shot with Sheila, the Twins and Ton in the field is so cute…
A friend of mine is trying a new decluttering system where she only keeps things that “spark joy.” I think that is a lovely guideline; one that’s likely to end with only a couple of cases of things left at the end and a lot less clutter stress.
Thirteen Moons was powerful. His previous book, Cold Mountain, was even more so. I still can’t get over the castrated horse.
I am a hoarder. I hoard pixels. I take 5000 images a year. They take up space on a tiny hard drive. It means I can let go of baby clothes and toys and other things.
A very thoughtful post today C. You are so right….we are all drowning in “stuff” we don’t need, nor does the planet! I now say to myself when contemplating buying something…do I really need this or just want it? If the answer is want it, it stays on the shelf! One thing though C. I think you would need 3 suitcases instead of 2…one for Sheila as I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t leave her behind! 🙂
Sheila has to carry her own suitcase! c
Oh, I’m bad. I sentimental hoard, because my memory is bad. As is my older sister’s. The small things I’ve kept from my childhood bring back memories I would have lost otherwise. My old diaries! The cap a baby wore coming home from hospital. Those are things that, if the house burned down, I wouldn’t try to save. But I’d be sad.
My grandfather saved everything. He had young children during the depression, and like I do now he kept things to be repaired or things that might repair something else. I add to that by saving junk that looks interesting and might be good for an art project.
I also have a good amount of grandfather’s old photos, letters, and books, the things my mother saved. Since she has been gone for almost 19 years now, I’ve had them. And now I live 3,000 miles and more from any family that might want these items! It’s a weight of responsibility, but no way could I ever throw it out.
I’d never fit all the things I need to take care of my furry family into two suitcases, in any case – much less the furry ones themselves – so I think my stuff has expanded with that realisation.
Oh! Have you ever seen George Carlin’s stand up bit on “stuff”? It is brilliant.
So, so agree. I like to travel light.
I have never been a hoarder, however once our daughter left home I realised I had accumulated things that would one day be a burden to her to have to deal with. So last year I had a clean out. I was inspired by the best book http://www.amazon.com/The-Life-Changing-Magic-Tidying-Decluttering/dp/1607747308 I would love to share it with all of the above whose comments are as tenuous as were mine, where does one start? But I don’t want to stick my nose in where it is not needed/wanted. We all come to these things in our own time. I can’t express how much easier life has been since shedding so much stuff, and truly, my house was not cluttered previously. I wrote a blog post about it too, in case anyone refers back to this to see my comment: http://ardysez.com/2015/04/21/less-is-more/ Thanks Celi, good reminder and lovely photos.
I always love your photos. Have a nice trip.
Oh my, have you touched on a subject that is recent to me! My In-Loves (not “in-laws”, as I love them dearly) are 85 and 87. They recently moved into an independent living arrangement. They insisted, that over the course of 6 weeks, they would sort and pack their belongings by themselves. Being that they are adults, we chose to honor the request that they be left alone to do just that. We would arrive with the moving truck the day before they were to move. We only live 3 miles apart. I would call and ask how things were going and was assured there was no need for me to come over and help. Two days before the move, our son took them some boxes. He came right to our house and made it clear there was no way on earth they’d be ready the next day. To get to the end of it, we had to rally ourselves and push in on their “packing”. They had barely done anything. It looked as though they had merely moved things from room to room in confusion as to what to do with it. What little had been packed was not packed in boxes that were meant for moving (banana boxes). They were both children from large families and children of the depression. I believe the job just became overwhelming. Memories mixed with treasures. Fifteen bags of rags. Seven spatulas. We ended up just packing everything as best we could and took it to their new place. “We will decide what to keep and what not to keep when we get there.” What had they been doing for the last 6 weeks? They were so exhausted when we would see them.
My question is—-how does one help parents that are perfectly sound of mind that are adamant that they will take care of it themselves? Even while packing their things, I felt terrible reminding Mom that it was the 7th spatula we had packed and that all their meals are prepared for them. I SO did not want to make them feel as though they were adle-minded and incapable of doing the job themselves. They were already feeling old because they were moving in to an apartment “with a bunch of old people”.
I have a similar thing with the Old Codger – he is the most terrible hoarder. I just clear small spaces and hope for the best. It makes me realise again and again that either I re-home this stuff of mine now before I am too tired or later someone else will just chuck the lot out in despair. He knows this too but still builds his piles. Inertia is the enemy of the old. You are kind of caught between a rock and a hard place. But I think you did the right thing in the long run. You let them deal as best they could, gave them the power that belongs with them, then pack what you can and wait for them to say “can you fetch this or that” So you can fill in the gaps. Then after a while it will settle. How hard it must be. For everyone.. c
When I was 41, I bought Legos and made Lego houses…none from plans, just from my head. Forty years later I moved from Sacramento to Longview, Washington and sold a bunch of stuff. Including my Legos. My children were in their teens and not interested in my Legos, so I placed an ad on Craigslist for my Legos (the ones the children had at their disposal) and a nice fellow came to buy them. He told me that he wanted them for when his 15 yo son came to visit him. I asked him if he were interested in MY private stash of Legos. He was and I sold them as well. After he left my house I felt so much lighter…freed from the obligation to play with Legos anymore. Now, if I could only remember that feeling and hope to replicate it…Much love, Gayle
It is so interesting reading everyone’s comments on here. It seems that most people have the desire to de-clutter, but the ability to do it comes hard for most, including me! I am a book hoarder, and I am running out of space. Everything else I keep to a minimum, but I do love my books. There is something about the physical feel of holding a book to read that a Kindle can’t replace.
I had a great-grandmother who brought up her family through the Depression years. When she was in her nineties, all her family helped her to move into a small flat on my grandparent’s house. The amount of STUFF she had hoarded over the years, had to be seen to be believed. Collections of string, plastic bags, jars – and she wouldn’t hear of throwing it out, ‘because you never know when you might want it’! We ended up getting rid of a lot of it without her knowing, and she never even missed it. There were also lots of things she couldn’t bear to throw out because they had sentimental value. Small china ornaments and things her husband had bought her. Of course we couldn’t get rid of those, but once she passed away it all got thrown away. It made me realise again how one person’s treasure is only a piece of junk to someone else, without the memories attached.
“one person’s treasure is only a piece of junk to someone else, without the memories attached.” Well said. I can take pictures and write down the memories that go with the item, but my memories are mine alone. I will try to remember that as I sort and purge. Thanks