What to Hold On To

Make me an angel, that flies from Montgom’ry
Make me a poster, from an old rodeo
Just give me something that I can hold on to
To believe in this living, is just a hard way to go.
John Prine

I had the day off today for Veterans Day and I had few things on my agenda—get some exercise, throw away the junk mail that has accumulated on the kitchen table, and start to get my house in order for the kids and company that will be arriving for the holidays. I have a problem with newspapers, magazines and catalogues—I am completely incapable of throwing them away without first leafing through them. As a consequence, I waste a lot of time. As I quickly paged through our small town’s newspaper before tossing it in the trash, an article about de-cluttering and downsizing caught my eye, and I quote: “De-cluttering in a meaningful way is key to a successful transition from one stage of life to the next and will allow the individual to let go of some possessions in order to enjoy the future. The goal is to prevent possessions from becoming impediments to change.” Right.

 
I have moved around quite a lot in my life—born in Georgia, moved to North Carolina for my father’s general surgery residency, spent the bulk of my childhood in Texas, then in quick succession—Connecticut, back to Texas, Massachusetts and then California. I have always welcomed change, and saw it as a chance to shed old skins both physical and emotional, and make new friends and create a new sense of place and space. My husband and I have lived in six different houses in thirty two years of marriage, seven if you count my apartment in Brookline. Each move has been an opportunity to sort through the detritus of past lives, to cull our “things”, to figure out what to give away, and what to hold on to. This worked well, until we got here. We have lived in our current house for nearly fifteen years, and this place is beginning to sag, quite literally, under the burden of our accumulated possessions, not to mention the emotional freight of children’s rooms now abandoned. How does one even begin to decide what to give away, what to sell, and what will be forever missed once it is gone?

 
I got a little taste of how to choose during the Witch fires here, October of 2007. My first priority was to get my family and my animals out—the fires moved very quickly and burned to within 100 yards of our place. Friends will remember the photograph of me broadcast around the world—like General Patton in World War II, leading Norman, our little Lipizzaner, and my two Quarter Horses to safety—my brow creased with worry, his nostrils flared with fear, mane flying, air smokey. The news crews were there because we were the last to be evacuated. I brought no clothing, none of the art on the walls, the sculptures, the books accumulated over a lifetime. The only things I grabbed on the way out were my photo albums and the few pieces of good jewelry my grandmother left me. Oh, and of course my sixteen year old son and our four dogs—the cat was nowhere to be found as sirens were blaring, but seeing as how he’d only lived one or two of his lives at that point, he survived just fine on the food and water I left.

 
But how to lighten the load and clear out the spaces when there is no urgency, just a need to see my way clear of the “stuff”, to get to the essence—that is the question. I am hopelessly sentimental. Every picture tells a story, every object a novel. I need guidance. Anybody? Anybody?

10 comments

  1. When I was moving from my condo, where I was a single woman for fifteen years, into a home that my future husband & I were moving into together, I had that same problem. What to keep; what to let go of. I particularly was hesitant to lose many photos of good times I had spent with an ex-boyfriend. I received great advise from my good friend, who has since passed away from pancreatic cancer, that I will never forgot. She reminded me that great memories are not attached to things; they are stored forever in my heart.

  2. If it lives in a box or a drawer and you never think of it until you happen upon it while looking for something else, you most likely can let it go. But that doesn’t mean the trash; pass it on to someone who would love it, donate, or up-cycle. I know your walls are pretty full, but often memorabilia can be turned into nifty shadowboxes. Invite the kids to take what they want and distribute the rest. (But you had better save the Dundee portrait!)

  3. I have become a ruthless purger; two years ago I donated 40 (yes 4-0) boxes of books to a local high school. Clearing space has become therapeutic. I am on the kick again (there are areas in our house that remain cluttered); when Janet died this past summer, I resolved that I would minimize the amount of stuff other people might have to go through when I die. There is the 100 thing challenge (http://guynameddave.com/100-thing-challenge/) but I am realistic enough to know that this is so not me. And, I have the hardest time purging my dishes and my craft stuff. Memorabilia is hard; priorizing what is most important and what you can’t bear to part with would be the first step. Start with the easiest room and make a plan to do 15 minutes a day – start easily and in a way that is not overwhelming. 1 step at a time. I wish you lots of good luck with it.

  4. Cynthia, I got to Dave’s website but I couldn’t exactly figure out what the 100 thing challenge is. I did note that he teaches at Point Loma Nazarene college, which is here in San Diego. Must make a point of going to hear him speak sometime. I think I will start with the kitchen and the 50 cook books I never use! M.

  5. I, too, moved around alot growing up and finally found myself in West Michigan with a great home and a great husband, three cats and an adorable Malamute and have been in the same place for 19 years. I never thought I would live in one place this long. I was lucky to spend four years in Omaha which meant I got to finish high school in one place. I discovered the Fly Lady website was just what I needed. She gets you organized and sends reminders. It may become too much for some but I just unsubscribe for a while until the piles start getting bigger and then I am once again a Fly Baby. It is not for everyone but I learned some good tricks. Here is the web site:
    http://www.flylady.net/

  6. What I can tell you is simplifying can be complicated, but once it’s done, it is very freeing. Even under pressure, it cannot be rushed. If you see your days, every day as if it were your last (in your home), you should be drawn to what’s important. Write those important things down then as mentioned, take a certain amount of time every day, or every weekend, to sort through your things, as if you were going to move. Hopefully you have an evacuation plan. I started by making sure all my photos, films, etc. were placed near my safe and typed a list of things I would need in an emergency evacuation. Once I did that I realized I really didn’t need much else! I prepared a living will and gave things to people now, rather than later. That was key. There is something to be said for living as though every day may be the last. Suddenly you know what matters. I find myself thinking very hard about any new purchases now as everything takes up space and energy to one extent or another. My how I have downsized, but it took a long time to get through it all. It’s very understandable to want to hold on to things. I can tell you I miss nothing I have parted with but have the fondest of memories. Perhaps you could write a blog for each big item you part with and link a photo?

  7. I should have said: Imagine yourself moving into a 800 sf studio apartment and write down what you must have, then donate the rest 🙂

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