One of the things that happened as a result of some major drama at the end of last year was my decision to PURGE. EVERYTHING. EVER. That’s the beauty of the way I deal with bad things happening, is that I always have a sudden and terrible urge to completely reboot my entire life. Sometimes I pack up and move across the country, and sometimes I pack up and just purge. This time, I started with everything in my house that had bad memories attached, or that was ugly or outdated or could be improved upon or made me unhappy or uncomfortable or wasn’t improving my space or life in any meaningful way. Once that part of the storm was over, I ended up with a garage full of junk, including 2 tube TVs and a couch.
Then the real purging happened, the meat of the whole endeavor: my closet. Everything that didn’t fit, gone. I needed to face the truth that the pants I’d been hanging onto for five years in hopes that I would one day actually get back into them could be let go. If I’m being realistic, I’m at a size that I feel comfortable in, I’m healthy, I have no idea how much I actually weigh, and therefore have no real motivation to try and get back into clothes that fit me in my early college years, when I have much better style now anyway. Then went the clothes that I held onto for sentimental reasons but that I never ever wore (or would be caught dead in). Slightly harder to get rid of, and I had to keep reminding myself that for whatever reason they were sentimental to me, they would never be missed because it is the reason for the sentimentality, not the actual object, that matters. Then clothes that I knew, in practice, looked good on me, but that for some reason I could never bring myself to wear because they just were not my style. Lots of Anthropologie fad pieces in this section. Too many colors, too many patterns, just too much style for me. I have become a jeans or leggings, plain t shirt, cardigan, boots girl. Grey, black, off white, and rose are pretty much the only colors I wear, and so nearly everything else got tossed. What I ended up with was four. GIGANTIC. tupperware bins of clothes in my garage. And I STILL have mountains of laundry. Right now, I couldn’t name one thing that is in any of those bins, let alone anything that I might miss.
And I’m still going through my house and finding things to purge. I have this fantasy where my life is rid of plastic and all of my storage is glass containers, Ball jars, wicker baskets handmade by happy, ethically sourced craftsmen, etc. So far, that’s not super attainable since I still have so much shit. But come spring, my big plan is to have a massive garage sale, make money off of as much of this crap as I can (which will be a lot because I happen to live in Garage Sale Country), and dump the rest at one of our local charity thrift stores.
Simplifying your life, becoming more earthly and more aware of your belongings, it’s a huge undertaking. It doesn’t happen overnight. Sometimes I wish it was that easy, but then I think about the process, about being able to judge and consider the things I own and how to either live without them or replace them with more conscionable choices, and it’s actually sort of fulfilling.