January Cure- Assignment 3
Phew! The only good thing about all the snow we got in New Jersey yesterday was I was able to do Day 3 of the Cure plus the weekend project. I call that a productive day!
Day 3 is a simple one- set up an outbox. Designate one place/closet/box/whatever in your home that you can put things that are ready to be donated to given to someone who could put them to use. When we were in a small condo this was just a bag in a closet, but now that we're in an actual house it's a nice ample corner in the basement. I'm always putting stuff there that's no longer of use for us. The good thing is too that I only make donation drop offs every few months so I have a trial of living without something. If it turns out I need it, it obviously goes back on the shelf. I'm not sure that's ever happened though.
Minimalism has always been a way of life for some, but it's been hitting it's stride lately. Marie Kondo, of the KonMarie method, is everywhere you turn with her mantra to only keep items in your home that spark joy. The basic premise of her book is to hold each item in your home and see if it sparks joy. If it doesn't, thank that item for the joy it did bring and put it in the outbox. While I'll never admit to going full-Kondo and having discussions with a slotted spoon, I've occasionally said to a piece of clothing that I'm tired of seeing it in my closet and tossed it into the donation bin.
Speaking of peculiar organizing methods, have you heard of all the talk about Swedish Death Cleaning? It's where upon reaching middle age, Swedes will start going through all those boxes in storage that haven't been opened in ages and determine what's they actually need or want to keep, so loved ones won't have to sort through it after they pass. I think it's a great concept and kind of works with my mantra on "stuff." I only want to keep things in my home that I need or have special meaning to me. Sure, I have room to keep a ton of appliances in the basement, but knowing I'll never use a quesadilla maker I'll pass it along. Maybe someone else would love it buy it for $3 from a thrift store and would use it all the time. Same goes for an old jacket, a large serving bowl, whatever. I like to remember that I'm fortunate to have all the things I do, and if I can pass along something that may bring someone else happiness, I will.
I also favor quality over quantity. I buy things will last and that I appreciate. Sometimes that means I'll spend a few extra bucks on something because it looks prettier, but I know I won't want to replace it as quickly, if at all. When it comes to saving things, I'm of the mantra that less is more and it want it to have a story. The best part is I decide what exactly that means. For example, I primarily read ebooks and limit my ownership of physical books, but there's no way I would part with the old paperback book series that my dad and I loved to read and discuss. All the other books are given to friends or donated. I'll keep what's special and part with the rest. I don't need to keep even a fifth of my daughter's baby wardrobe, but the dress she wore for 36 hours straight on her second birthday will definitely be kept along with the story of how she refused to take it off and only did so because she couldn't wear it to go swimming. Those are the memories I want her to know about in 30 years.
No, you can't borrow my shoes. These ones are still sparking joy.
Putting nostalgic items aside, I have a bit of an affinity for shoes. They have always been my guilty pleasure and I used to relish in counting how many pairs I had like it actually meant something. Then I realized that a lot of them didn't feel great when I wore them- maybe they were just uncomfortable or there was a strap that dug in the wrong place. It started to bother me that while I had a ton of shoes, I didn't want to wear most of them. I started to put more intention into my shoe buying and not buying something because it was on a great sale or was just too pretty to pass up. (You can laugh, it's okay. I hear it, too.) Point is, I made sure from then on that I only bought shoes that felt good on my feet as soon as I bought them. you might say I only bought shoes that "sparked joy." I still have a pretty substantial shoe collection but now I know that all of them fit well and make me happy. (No, I won't count them for you.)
Lucky for me the January Cure has no days that require me to even think about editing my collection since the 25th is solely a closet clean out and my shoes are all neatly stored elsewhere. Score one for not having traditional closets in the bedroom!)
