That time we got rid of all our stuff…that i don’t miss.

I get hit hard with thoughts of purging, organizing, donating, rearranging and tossing things from my second story window on the regular.  I look around at my teeny little apartment and see very few items, most of which on are the floor or inside my shoe…thanks Clementine.  But even so, I get this intense urge to pack most of it up in my car and haul it away…to someone else who could use it or to an outdoor garbage can.  I’m talking things like, extra couch pillow that are always in my way, hats hanging on the hooks that only get worn when there’s a full moon, knicky-knack crap that collects dust (unless i really LUUUVE it), pictures on the wall that don’t reeeeally speak to me, shoes that I bought thinking would be cute with some random outfit that i only wear when there’s a full moon, jewelry I can’t seem to find a time or place to show off, all that crap in those drawers that I open and am like, “ohh ma wuurd, i didn’t even remember this was in HERE!!” (trust me, i wouldn’t miss it), extra purses or bags I KNOW I’ll use one day, and especially clothes.  Ahhh, those clothes.  I’m not really sure why we as culture have such an obsession with clothing, buying lots of clothing and collecting it in our closets like baseball cards that might be worth something someday.  ugh.  I’m over it.  When my teeny little family and I moved out of our house a year ago, we purged like crazy.  Kinda because we had to, but also because it was just mentally necessary.  It felt so liberating.  We literally sold all of our furniture, donated bags and bags of things we just couldn’t find a reason to keep, threw lots of junk away, and downsized our closet of clothes from a large walk-in closet amount to a small narrow closet amount.  Combined.  I’m talkin, we both got rid of over half of our clothes so we could share one of those small closets that most people store coats and a vacuum cleaner in.  And today, I still go through it when I’m getting dressed and I’m like, “what the junk?!  I still got lots of stuff in here that I don’t really even think is all that boss.”  This whole minimal idea goes for Clementine’s toy supply as well.  We don’t have an extra room to throw all of her entertainment in.  It sits in our living room, where she exists most of her days…if we’re not out being totally awesome and doing totally awesome things.  She’s got one small basket of toys and one small basket of books.  And even this is too much.  She’s not at the age where digging down into the bottom of a mass of toys and dolls is even on her radar.  If there happens to be a shoe on top of the pile because that’s where daddy thinks shoes go, then she’ll walk around with that and play with that.  For like, an absurd amount of time.  SEE.  She doesn’t even care if that basket is full.  And frankly, it kind of drives me bananas to have it overflowing with stuff.  Even her book basket is out of control.  She picks up the same few books every day and wouldn’t even know the difference if every other one were put away for later enjoyment.  I’d probably keep the books and just rotate them out instead of getting rid of them, because books are her “toy” of choice. 

I want to look around in the space I spend so much time in and feel like I’m at Anthropolgie.  I mean, they have a lot of crap too, but you know what i mean.  I want to LOVE everything i see, i want everything i see to have PURPOSE, and then, will I feel rich with the thoughtful and intentional existence of good things sharing my intimate space.  Decluttered things.  Things that make me smile.  Not things I give the stink eye to while I’m scanning the room because I’m wondering why I kept it for 12 years.  I want to breathe in minimalism and know that when I go to get dressed in the morning, I won’t file unimpressed through everything in my closet until i get to that one tank top that I wear every day anyways. 

We really only need a few great items that makes us smile, make us value simplicity…a couple pairs of clean underwear…and that candle from Anthropologie that makes us think we’re at Anthropologie.




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