Oh, we've already decluttered and cleaned the whole house? Obviously I'm not keeping up. lol
On thing I'm finding is self-talk can help. It seems that you might enjoy cleaning or at least don't hate it. I hate it. But I wish I loved it. That would be SO HANDY! So, I've been working on positive self-talk regarding cleaning. I smile when I say these things and I say them out loud if I'm alone or in my head if I'm not. I say things like, "I love to clean. Cleaning is fun. Cleaning makes me happy. I enjoy a tidy space." Blah, blah, blah...
I also sing songs with cleaning words replacing the regular lyrics. For example, for Row, Row, Row Your Boat, I sometimes sing, "Clean, clean, clean your house, gently down the stream. (It doesn't have to make sense. lol) Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily cleaning is a dream." Sure, it's dumb, but if it works, it doesn't matter.
And if I even sort of want to clean something, I praise myself, even if I don't follow through. I always try to keep it positive. If I do clean, even if it's just a little bit, I praise myself like I'm a little kid who just used the potty. Admittedly, It took me almost 2 weeks of doing positive self-talk before I noticed any change and if I quit for a couple of days, I had to start all over again. I've been doing it (more or less, as I remember to) for about a month. My place is still a wreck, but not AS bad as it was.
I've always been organized and maniacally tidy, (annoyingly so, I'm told ).
I lost my mojo when my wonderful hub and I purchased a very large Victorian Mansion back in '97, because I'd always dreamed of owning and running a successful B&B. The timing, price, and location were beyond perfect, and I thought this was the sign I wanted it to be. Once it was ours, we set about furnishing it. And boy-howdy, did we ever have fun with that. I can't remember when I've had that much f... well, you get the picture.
And that's how I got into the mess I got into with STUFF.
The dream was brilliant and fulfilled. Everything I'd ever hoped it could be. And then life dealt a nasty blow and I was on my own. The B&B was too much for me all by myself, and the new owners wanted to actually live in it. The nerve of those little pishers!
So, I moved into a tiny studio apartment with my mattress and some favorite clothes and purchased a contract for several storage units for the furnishings (and all the memories of finding and buying and refinishing and designing...oye!) See, I figured that, once the worst of the grieving was past, I'd be able to let it all go and I might as well get the best prices I can for all of it, right? Best way to do it would be to open up a shop. Sounds reasonably doable, doesn't it? I thought so, but ... No.
Here's what happened. I continued to shop furniture and furnishings because I seriously LOVE to do this. Garage sales, yard sales, flea markets, and auctions ... are actually what heaven is made of, and - because I was smart enough to make a rule (whenever I buy something I must get rid of something), I started flipping
furniture and furnishings. And got hooked. Utterly. (I honestly think I was using these activities like a drug, to keep him alive, ya know?)
I did get a hold of myself about a year ago, and started selling the B&B furnishings, but it was slow going, because, as I stated, every diggity-dang item had a memory attached to it. Um, actually, it was more than that; I really liked all that stuff. Decisions on what to keep for myself and what to let go were difficult, and I allowed them to become more stressful than they ever should have been. My greatest success was selling the final item from one of the units and shutting it down. It was a big day for me. Empowering. A good look at the monthly budget without that added expenditure encouraged an inventory of what the remaining three units had to offer. (Hey, It was a 10 bedroom house) And started marketing that shit with dedicated intent. Cha-Ching!
I closed the last unit this past March.
I live comfortably clutter-free again, rapidly approaching what I would consider minimalist if not for the paintings ... and the books. I need to get rid of all those books. Dear God in heaven!
All that said, I love reading your support group blog because I like knowing I'm not alone in the situation - or I should say: process. And it really is like an addiction. I mean, just this morning, I passed a sign that read AUCTION THIS SUNDAY and there were six or seven gigantic white tents... And I checked my calendar before I even realized what I was ding.
Oh, Girl! I just read your post on the QOTD forum and swooshed over here to read your minimalist blog. I've embraced the lifestyle after a lifetime of decorating and redecorating with antiques. Not that I've stopped loving it; I'm really good at it and love the buying and selling... you get the picture. But last summer, (2018) I had a mini disaster in the house and needed to quickly move everything out while repairs were underway. Almost immediately, I became hypnotized by the emptiness; the space.
I never realized how much I would like it. The look of it. The ease of cleaning (Oh my goodness!) Even breathing feels different. In no time, I sold all my antiques and when I would normally be buying more, well, I simply didn't.
I'm quite sure I'll never go back.
Fanning your blog and thrilled I'm not the only one. Woohoo!
As always, great blog entry! I love reading all your great suggestions! I'm now at the point where I have several bins of photos and boxes of drawings and notes from the grandkids. Hubby is anxious for me to go through these bins and downsize while I am resisting the task, which equals friction.
Excellent recommendations of how to declutter. That's what I need to do, find a box for each room and put anything that doesn't belong or have a home in it. It's such a great idea. Now to find the motivation!
I'd like to comment about what not to do when someone is a new mommy or grandma. Don't save every single scribble, and especially don't date it. I've got boxes of drawings and colorbook pages with names and dates that I saved over the years. Even the colorbook pages "I" colored with the kids, and with my name and date colored. What the... ??? I haven't started weeding through these boxes yet, but probably will in the near future. I've been thinking about blogging about this later on... things not to do. I'm the prime example of someone who needed her own advice over 40 years ago.
I think I'll tear wallpaper off the bedroom wall upstairs first. Much easier task!
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