In November 2008, around the time many of us likely were fretting over not having enough counter space, cabinets, and kitchen gadgets to pull off Thanksgiving dinner, the New York Times ran an interview with Mark Bittman—journalist, food writer, and author of How to Cook Everything.
In the feature, Bittman shared how he cooks in the modest kitchen of his Manhattan flat—forgoing common tools such as a toaster or food processor due to space limitations. It was impressive and inspiring to think of a foodie of his caliber getting by without such seemingly basic kitchen tools. (Incidentally, for many years he wrote a weekly New York Times column called “The Minimalist.”)
But not everyone can (or wants to) forgo the metaphorical toaster. Before you begin the task of editing your stuff, it helps to take stock of what you might want to keep . . . and why. In this chapter, we take a moment to think about why clutter piles up in the first place. The answer is different for everyone. Therefore, choices about what to keep, what to toss or donate, and how to maintain a clutter-free environment differ as well.
From there, we’ll help you shift your perspective about your stuff so you can clear the decks (literally) as you minimalize your way to a happier, more relaxed physical and emotional space.
In no area of family life does the first key of Minimalist Parenting—make room for remarkable—translate so literally. Most of us feel happier and clearer in more open and organized environments, but getting there can be tricky for reasons that have nothing to do with the stuff itself. The reality is that physical decluttering is easier when you’re aware of the emotional clutter that goes along with it. We’d like to help you navigate the whys of clutter so you can acknowledge and move past them.
On the surface, “stuff” seems so tangible and straightforward, doesn’t it? But our relationship with stuff can be complex. For example, have you ever felt—as Christine has at times—the need to compensate for the things that were missing from your own childhood? Or that you buy stuff for your kids that addresses your own needs or insecurities?
My tendency toward clutter comes directly from my thrifty, practical upbringing. One of two phrases is behind every bit of clutter in my house: “It’s perfectly good” and “It may come in handy someday.” I feel wasteful (and a bit spoiled and entitled) when I get rid of something I think we may use in the future.
It may help to keep these ideas in mind as you navigate through (and past) the emotional reasons behind physical clutter:
Many of our automatic reactions to stuff were formed when we were children ourselves, so try not to get hung up on your hang-ups. You’re doing the best you can and you’re working hard to grow and improve. It’s a gradual process and you’ll probably stumble along the way, and that’s okay.
When you’re wrestling with the emotions around clutter, it’s easy to forget that your kids don’t know your backstory. It’s helpful to keep this in mind because your reactions (anger, sadness, frustration) can be confusing to your kids, who are still learning to get a handle on their own (considerable) wants.
There is so much pressure on parents to buy, buy, buy. Other parents are buying (right?), and we want to look good (or at least not bad) in their eyes. We feel a sense of obligation to provide our kids with the best, including the things we never had. Millions of savvy marketing dollars are spent activating our parental insecurities and fears in order to manufacture need.
When I was pregnant, those “must-have” nursery lists were so hard to resist! I knew on some level there was no way all that stuff was necessary (people raised babies for millennia before the Diaper Genie was invented), but I also felt a basic anxiety that I was shortchanging my kid if I didn’t spring for top-quality bedding or a stroller with all the bells and whistles.
It’s hard to listen to your inner bus driver when you’re assaulted by the noise of social pressures, but that’s where the path to clarity begins. As you contend with real and imagined social pressures, try to remember:
Other parents are probably feeling what you are feeling. Actually, we know they are because we’ve heard this message loud and clear in our online communities.
By acting on your values, you are setting an example—for your kids and for other parents—that acting in service of your family system takes conviction and strength.
During periods of self-doubt, it’s difficult to remember that you are completely competent to make your own decisions. Remember that you are driving the bus. You can do this.
Minimalist Parenting is not an exercise in deprivation. You can still enjoy shopping, decorating, and aesthetics. The trick is to focus on worth. If you use it or you love it, it’s worth making space for it in your life.
I have a silly cell phone charm that serves no specific purpose. I bought it in a tourist shop in San Francisco’s Chinatown while visiting with my family. It was my kids’ first visit to Chinatown and we had so much fun playing with the toys we found in the stalls lining the crowded sidewalks. That cheap little trinket brings back happy memories every time I see it dangling from my coat pocket or purse. In someone else’s life, that cell phone charm might classify as throwaway clutter. But I treasure it.
Before we get into the nuts and bolts of decluttering, here are a few ways to look at your stuff with new eyes.
When given the space, the tendency for most families is to fill it. Why not embrace less space (typically the opposite of what people do when deciding on homes) in order to control “stuff creep”?
Carla Naumburg via the Minimalist Parenting blog: We have a small house, with a corner in our living room designated for toys. We have a bookshelf and some bucket shelving in that area. If the toys don’t fit in there, then we know it’s time to get rid of a few! My daughters (ages two and three-and-a-half) put their toys away every night while I sweep. Because we have a small house, it feels pretty manageable.
Rachel Shipp of healthynaturaleasyish.com, via the Minimalist Parenting blog: A house larger than you need just leads to a state of serious disorganization. When my husband and I moved into our moderate-sized house, we almost doubled our square footage and doubled the number of bedrooms. There was no need to worry about organization, because there was space for everything. As we acquired new stuff, we just put it where it would fit. Five years and three kids later, I regret that lack of organization. Every. Single. Day. Especially since my time is so limited for fixing the problem . . . I really think when it comes to house size, less is more. Less space leads very naturally to more organization.
In tandem with the less (square footage) is more concept, there’s a case to be made for empty space. The tendency is to think of empty space as something negative: lonely, unused, even devoid of love. But empty space is actually the opposite; it’s a necessary positive that allows the surroundings to shine. It’s the physical equivalent of “making room for remarkable.”
Rael has helped me come to appreciate the beauty of empty space. I used to consider his taste rather spartan, but I now see that his mind works better with less visual clutter, and so does mine (and the kids’).
It may sound a little lofty, but your stuff may have a higher purpose to serve. Think about the different and positive ways your stuff can move out into the universe, whether it’s via donation, selling, or sharing with loved ones.
Only by thinking about how my stuff might be more useful to someone else can I chip away at my resistance to decluttering. I also find this helps my kids let go of their outgrown toys. Sam has an entrepreneurial streak and is always planning a yard sale or a trip to the used bookstore to sell his stuff. Mirabai (who’s attached to the memories associated with her toys and clothes) takes great comfort in knowing they will help another child.
It’s the old saw about quantity versus quality. Even kids can discover that having less stuff makes the remaining stuff feel more special.
Laurel gets very attached to stuff. I don’t think it’s due to fear of not having enough, but because she develops sentimental attachments and also is concerned that she will hurt the feelings of whoever gave an item to her if the person learns that she gave the item away. I get this, but I recently reached my breaking point over her stuffed animals. Yes, perhaps some of my own issues were creeping in here (I didn’t receive my first stuffed animal until I was five years old, following a tonsillectomy) but there was just too much. I decided it was finally time to talk to Laurel about donation.
When I first raised the topic, Laurel responded with the expected distress. I shared my discomfort over her abundance of stuffed animals given that she played so little (or not at all) with most of them and many kids have no stuffed animals. I told her that I had found a website that coordinates donations of gently used stuffed animals. She paused for a few minutes, clearly turning this over in her mind (she’s very empathetic and we’ve done many new toy donations in the past), and then she nodded her mind and said, “OK Mom, let’s do it!”
Laurel and I proceeded to declutter her stuffed animals. It was easier with the toys for which she couldn’t remember the giver, but in general, she handled it incredibly well. In about ten to fifteen minutes we had moved most of the landslide into several large trash bags and what was left clearly were the Chosen Ones—each beloved and with a unique history.
Laurel then proceeded to arrange this group carefully on the floor next to her bed—facing them out so she could see them all and find them whenever she wanted to gather an assembly. When she finished, she stepped back and laughed. I asked her what was so funny and she said, “You know, Mom, I thought this would be really hard but I’m not feeling bad about any of the stuffed animals I’m giving away. And actually, having less of them makes all of these ones feel more special.”
Exactly.
Have you ever gone to a store intending to buy one thing but walking out with ten? Yeah, us too. But before you drop something into your physical or virtual shopping cart, ask yourself: Do I really need this? Is this special? Is this worth the effort of making space for in my home . . . and in my life?
Recast yourself as a curator of special things rather than as an easily swayed consumer who pounces on purchases due to peer pressure or fear of scarcity (e.g., they’re on sale). We get into greater detail about assessing value in chapter 6.
Some people have a prejudice against secondhand anything. We say: that prejudice is worth challenging. While you might want to draw the line in certain places (e.g., underwear), secondhand items are usually fine. In fact, they’re often more than fine:
• You’ll pay less for well-made items that last
• Kids outgrow clothes and toys so quickly
• Plenty of baby gear has a limited-use window
My second pregnancy came as a big surprise. After several years of being open to expanding our family with no result, I came to terms with the possibility that I was no longer fertile and donated almost all of our baby goods. Of course, I found myself pregnant a couple of months later. When my girlfriend Heidi offered to host a baby shower, I asked if she would be willing to coordinate a secondhand baby shower. Why? Because I’m a big fan of recycling kid stuff and because I had many friends who were done having babies and had already asked if they could pass things along (I believe their words were, “Please borrow this and never, ever give it back!”). Since then, a lot of people have asked me how to coordinate a secondhand baby shower. Here’s the how-to:
• Make a list of things you actually need. Because it had been so long since I’d had baby gear on my mind, I referred to one of those (absurd, in my opinion) “must-have” baby gear registry lists with about 1,382 things on it and narrowed it down to the absolute basics. Hand this list over to your shower host, along with the guest list.
• Query for hand-me-downs. One option is to float the list to friends and let the hand-me-downs fall where they may, as it were. However, if you or the host want to take a more organized approach, you can do what Heidi did, which was have people respond to her regarding what they were bringing, in order to prevent duplicates.
• Be okay with other things. Or nothing at all! Most of all, I wanted to spend time with my friends, particularly because the shower ended up including a remarkable collection of amazing women from different parts of my life. I truly did not care if people brought things, as long as they brought themselves! There also were attendees who were long done with kids and no longer had items to hand down. To make people comfortable, Heidi indicated in the invitation that people were welcome to simply come and hang out; if they wanted to bring something other than hand-me-downs, gift cards or diapers were handy, easy options.
• Keep it simple. Heidi is incredibly generous and she catered a lovely spread of sweet and savory items. However, it’s also totally fine to keep things simple. If you’d rather not serve a meal, schedule the shower for a between-meal hour, for example, 2 to 4 p.m., and offer beverages and light snacks.
• Coordinate a departure plan. Depending on your haul (and how pregnant you are), you might need help at departure time. In addition to large items such as a jogging stroller and crib mattress, I also received four crates (!) of secondhand clothing and toys, among other things. I definitely needed help getting it all home!
Every now and then you’ll find yourself without access to your daily comforts, whether due to loss, breakage, or being away from home. Hold off on replacing things right away; you may find you can minimalize things you thought you couldn’t live without!
We went through a bizarre high maintenance season in our home. We needed to put in a sump pump. We had multiple plumbing issues. So when the ice maker and microwave died, Jon and I decided to experiment with going without (both to save money and yet another trip to Home Depot). The ice maker was easy—it’s not that difficult to fill ice trays with water.
I was a little more hesitant to lose the convenience of the microwave, but replacing it was a bigger hassle (it’s an over-the-stove unit attached to some cabinets). We agreed to go for a month without it; if we felt we still needed it after that month, we’d replace it.
The first week took a little getting used to but we were soon in the groove with using the stove or the toaster. Added bonus? The microwave (which we left in place because it would be a hassle to remove it) now serves as extra storage space.
Clutter clearly isn’t just physical, it’s got emotional talons too. But now that you’ve started to identify the whys of your clutter, you’re hopefully thinking about your stuff a little differently. In the next chapter, we’ll share strategies to help you minimalize the physical clutter.