In desperate need of spring cleaning

I am buried. Surrounded by stuff. I want, more than anything, a decluttered life, and yet I can’t keep ahead of the piles. Piles of papers. Piles of school work (kids’). Piles of books (mine). Piles of paperwork (mine). Piles of toys (kids). Piles of to-do’s on piles of lists (mine).

I’ve given some serious thought to just throwing everything away (or recycling) and living with the consequences. A test to see if I really needed it in the first place. But I look under the surface and immediately know why and when I’ll need it. And most of the time, the reason is legit. And then the pile that can be excused is too small to qualify as true decluttering and the whole exercise seems futile.

But it needs to go. It’s in my way. It’s a physical and mental block. I’ve read that 15 minutes a day can lead to clutter free life, but I don’t do anything in 15 minutes. I’m thorough. I like to jump in the deep end and work until I, or the project, is exhausted. I dream of having a whole week off from work, alone, to methodically go through the whole house. Since that’s not likely to happen (because I mean, really, if I had a whole week off to myself would I really spend it cleaning?).  I need to break it down. But there’s always something else to do. Something that either is more important or that I convince myself to be as important (see earlier posts about how persuasive I am). Plus, 15 minutes a day doesn’t put enough of a dent in the grand total. New piles sprout in, like, 12 minutes. I haven’t timed it, but I’m pretty sure the Universe seeks balance by replacing one clean surface with a deeper pile somewhere else in my house.

How do people do it? How do people let go of the stuff and not think back “gee, I wish I still had that?” Or, if they do have those wistful thoughts of longing for past crap, how do they get over it instead of kicking themselves for letting go of it in the first place? I don’t want it. I want the space more than I want the stuff. But I fear wishing I had it still. I fear making a mistake and tossing something that later proves to have been an instrumental part of my past that I’ll forever regret removing from my life. I know it sounds dramatic, but it’s my truth. I need to find a way to have the memories without the stuff (and if you say make a scrapbook, I will find you and throw my piles of scrapbook stuff at you).