Enough Already; Already Enough

I’ve written a lot about “enough”. Probably enough. Maybe too much. But this comic prompted me to give it another go. Minimalism, owning little, became a big deal several years ago. I thought I’d found my tribe, but minimalist never felt just right. Neither of the households depicted in this comic suits me. One’s too severe and one’s too cluttered. Neither feels like my best nest.

An article (now several years old) in the New York Times Magazine, The Oppressive Gospel of ‘Minimalism’ was my eye-opener. Here’s the short version.

The new minimalist lifestyle always seems to end in enabling new modes of consumption, ‘a veritable excess of less’. It’s not really minimal at all.  To wealthy practitioners, minimalism is now little more than a slightly intriguing perversion, like drinking at breakfast.  Minimalism telegraphs elitism.  The richer one is, the less one has.  But with a carefully edited life, having only the right things is crucial.  The wrong stuff is a minimalist buzzkill. Being a minimalist takes lots of resources- time, money, social standing, confidence and a speedy internet connection. 

If minimalism is oppressive, and consumerism is burdensome, what’s a person to do? Maybe enoughism is our ticket to liberation. Enough is enough. Sharing a cup of sugar is neighborly. Asking to borrow the kitchen sink? Think again!

Mission Accomplished!

How honest of Pig. Loafing is what he intends to do. It’s right there on his To-Do List. His aim might not be all that aspirational, but I bet he’ll not just try, but actually do. Loafing is what English philosopher, Bertrand Russell called idling. Disparaging? Au contraire! Russell’s thesis in In Praise of Idleness is this: “The time we enjoy wasting is not wasted time”. Pig didn’t need a philosopher to bless his loafing. He knows that doing nothing is still doing. So follow Pig’s lead. Don’t just try to relax, do relax.

Out, Out Humiliation and Mistakes!

An excerpt from the New Yorker, January 9, 2019

“Beacon’s Closet, the used-clothing emporium with several locations in New York City, is a site of ritual humiliation. (Italics are mine.) Perhaps you know the drill. You haul your bags of old sweaters, shoes, or slacks to the counter in the back of the store, where a team of stylish buyers (perpetually twenty-seven years old, with Bauhaus haircuts) awaits. As you look on, they pick through the piles of clothing that you once considered fashionable and determine whether any of it is worthy of being purchased and resold in the store.

Inevitably, most of it is not. That pricey Saks coat with a bubble hem that cost half your paycheck? No longer “in season.” The patent-leather wing-tip brogues you purchased when men’s shoes for women were all the rage? Not really “moving on the floor” at the moment. Any items they do decide to purchase will earn you a small amount of cash or a (marginally larger) store credit. The rest you can lug back home, or deposit in the in-house donation bin, to clear space in your closet for a fresh round of fashion mistakes.” (Italics are mine.)

This article takes a look at the hypothesized link between the recent surge in donations to consignment shops and the airing of a new TV reality series featuring Marie Kondo and her method of life-changing tidying.  Kondo is an organizing juggernaut- author, speaker, reality television star, brand.

Hogwarts had the sorting hat. Kondo sorts by joy. Items that “spark joy” are keepers. Others should go. What could I possibly add to the MK phenomenon?  Maybe some Rules?  They may not spark joy, but they can foil misery. And eliminating a negative can be as satisfying as accentuating a positive. Apropos ritual humiliation and fresh round of fashion mistakes…

Three of the Rules

CREATE A UNIFORM.  What is it that makes you, you? Not just in clothing, but in decorating, cooking, entertaining, gifting- basically a “lifestyle” uniform.  Habits (aka “uniforms”) are mostly helpful. And breaking out on occasion is too.

FASHION IS FLEETING AND SHOULD BE LARGELY IGNORED. STYLE ENDURES.  Define yours.  It’s nothing more than confidence, clarity, and consistency, tempered with authenticity.

MISTAKES HAPPEN.  ADMIT, LEARN AND MOVE ON.  Perseveration will only gnaw at you.  If you can afford to correct your mistake, do so.  If you must live with it, endeavor to not make it again.  

There's Never Two of Anything

“There’s never two of anything.” This is my favorite line from Truman Capote’s autobiographical short story, A Christmas Memory. To pick a single favorite from a book where almost every sentence could be a contender, isn’t easy. But I’m unwavering. This is the line where the lump in my throat cannot be ignored, no matter how many times I read this story.

Maybe a scientist can refute the claim that there’s never two of anything, but I’m sticking with the much simpler notion that people and things- natural and manmade, are unique. Snowflakes, identical twins, even clones- no two are exactly alike. Quite similar, yes. But they aren’t exactly the same if for no reasons other than having been created at different times and occupying different spaces in the universe.

Sharing a name and a function makes two objects related. Such is the case with the simple mechanical devices pictured here. They’re both named ‘stapler’ and they’re both used to fasten loose pages together using thin, bendable bits of metal that are dispensed one at a time with a firm hand press.

I love to staple because I loathe loose sheets of paper. When multiple pages come out of their envelope, they’re in for a stapling. One missing page can spoil the entire thing, unless it’s “this page left intentionally blank”. But that’s seldom the escapee.

Most everyone owns at least one stapler. I now have two, but not for long.

Simplifying means getting rid of the not just the things you used to like, but of getting rid of the ones you’ve never liked. That would be the stapler on the right. It is flimsy, functions poorly and looks best in a drawer. The one on the left is everything a stapler should be. Solid and reliable. Satisfying in both form and function. It feels good in the hand and never misfires. It even sounds good- deep, not hollow or tinny.

Hierarchical classification is commonly associated with plants and animals. Imagine an inverted pyramid with the broadest category on top and each underlying layer becoming more exclusive. Playing taxonomy a bit fast and loose: tools, desk accessories, paper fasteners, staplers, El Casco or Bostitch. When you get to the very bottom, whether daisies, dachshunds or staplers, there’s never two of anything.

Resolving- Not To

Today we’re full of good intentions and promises- the familiar New Year’s resolutions.  These are typically framed in terms of doing something to make oneself a better person.  Lose weight.  Exercise more.  Stick to a budget.  Get organized.  But a resolution works just as well the other way.  So this year, consider a firm pledge to not do something. 

 I’ll lead off.

I am never going to knit one of these dogs.  It would take forever and even if it were finished, the best I could say is, “Hallelujah! it’s finished.”  It would still be a crazy little knitted dog that I don’t want or need. 

Why do I even have this book?  That’s a good question. The honest answer- the book was free. The knit shop’s owner was clearing out stale inventory that even a markdown hadn’t budged. Maybe free would get the job done.  It usually does.

I’m generally pretty immune to free.   But this book captured my imagination.  I wasn’t going to knit just one dog, I was going to work my way through- Airedale to Zuchon and make a whole kennel of knitted canines! Fortunately I came to my senses.  The instructions were sobering.  The requisite needles were the diameter of toothpicks to accommodate yarn akin to angel’s hair. And yet the best I could hope for was still a tiny knitted hound.  The mismatch between effort and reward was coming into very clear focus.

That answer, ‘free’, is something worth contemplating.  Just because something is free, doesn’t mean it is without costs.  Don’t take for free what you wouldn’t willingly pay for- maybe not a lot, but at least something.  Had I applied this discipline to the knit yourself a dog book, it would never have come home with me.  It wouldn’t have taunted me for over a year- “I dare you to knit me.”

But the book is gone and only the lesson remains.  Sometimes feeling just as good about what you’re not doing as what you are doing is not only okay, but inspired. What’s not worth your time?   Loosen your collar.  Go off-leash. Get out of the dog pound.  This year, find your resolve ‘not to’.

Happy New Year!

Another Installment of Wonderful

You know my rule, Handle it Once? Well, this adorable Santa is an excellent reminder that sometimes the Rules should be broken. How about handle it twice a year for at least a quarter of a century?

The keeper of this Claus has done just that. And unless Santa loses too many vital parts, he’ll continue to reprise his seasonal role in another installment of wonderful.

Thanks to two of my dear yogis- one for coining the expression “another installment of wonderful” and another for curating a Santa made when blunt tip scissors and glue sticks were the order of the day.

Merry Christmas to all…

Strictly For the Birds

“How organized can you get?” Maybe the better question is, “How organized should you get?”. The answer is simple. Organized enough- for you. Not to suit Liz in Garfield. Not to suit me. What’s your threshold? Where is your balance? If your way suits you and doesn’t wildly inconvenience or upset those around you- full steam ahead.

Even this lover of organization thinks taking the Christmas tree down before Christmas is for the birds. The figurative birds. And our little tree, with Cherrios garland, cranberry pendants and seeded pinecones is strictly for the birds. The literal birds.

Little or big, calm or exuberant. Find your just right. Merry Christmas.

Basket of Books

Leavening the Rules, A Lighthearted Look at Order

When you open your mind to the Rules, you’ll see them everywhere. They’re hard to miss. The funny pages might seem an unlikely place to run into the Rules, but the comics are replete with lighthearted takes. Witty or corny. Pointed or subtle. Eliciting a relieved, “Glad that’s not me.” or an honest, “I wish it were otherwise, but that’s so me.” No matter their style, comics illuminate the principles and practices that guide me. Humor enlivens that which might otherwise feel heavy.

The seed of Leavening the Rules took hold last year while I focused on Writings on the Rules. My nest mate is a serious comic devotee- he reads them every one. Along with a pre-dawn cup of coffee, he greets me with, “You’re going to love Pearls Before Swine (or Pickles, Dilbert, Zits…).” He knows what makes me tick. Even the early morning grog can’t hide the parallels between the funny papers and my Rules. But a now-obvious connection might have been lost except for the comic-reading enthusiast and the comic creators.

But back to the seed. While Writings on the Rules was coming together, I needed a way to keep the blog fed without cannibalizing the book. Comics to the rescue. The seed sprouted and became Leavening the Rules. Words inspired by comics and a basket woven from comics- a lighthearted duo.

From the Homepage, particulars are easy to find. See About and Book Order Form. Happy Reading!

Mind If I Watch?

Darryl with the Christmas lights is the butt of this comic, but it hits close to home.  For us, it was cows, not lights that elicited the question, “Mind if I watch?” 

We were new to cattle farming and didn’t begin to know what we didn’t know.  Advanced degrees aren’t worth the parchment they’re printed on when it comes to rounding up cattle.  Mr. Doby, who lived in our farmhouse, knew quite a lot- parchment be damned.   He knew that he wasn’t on the roundup committee, so in his country drawl asked, “Mind if I watch?”.  I’m pretty sure he would have stepped in to help if it became clear that the cows were winning, but ultimately, the humans bested the bovines. Even the seemingly pathetic cow named Wiggly Horns submitted, eventually.  A successful roundup was celebrated by all.  Well, maybe celebrated overstates things.  Relieved best describes the cattle farmer and his helpers. 

There was no popcorn accompanying this show, but Mr. Doby still pronounced it good entertainment. 

With practice, we’ve gotten better at corralling and loading cattle. But I’m not counting on this doing ever feeling celebratory. Relief that we not only tried, but did, will be plenty good enough. 

Into the light

“What the mind knows, the eye will see.” This aphorism is attributed to many, so Anonymous seems fairest. No matter the source, it packs quite a punch. It’s a simple, universal truth- the eye will not see what the minds does not comprehend.

“Out of mind, out of sight”- a malapropism that works.

When you open your mind to the Rules, you’ll see them everywhere. They’re hard to miss. The funny pages might seem an unlikely place to run into the Rules, but the comics are replete with lighthearted takes. Witty or corny. Pointed or subtle. Eliciting a relieved, “Glad that’s not me.” or an honest, “I wish it were otherwise, but that’s so me.” No matter their style, the comics illuminate the principles and practices that guide me. Humor enlivens that which might otherwise feel heavy.

A companion to Robins’s Rules of Order and Writings on the Rules, is under construction. Leavening the Rules- A Lighthearted Look at Order will be ready for consumption around Thanksgiving- maybe not the most auspicious time with consumption already being in high gear. So consider the new book to be an antidote for seasonal, “too much.”

Boundless thanks to all the purveyors of laughter whose work transforms my Rules for the better. Leavening with laughter is no laughing matter! This Pearls Before Swine was in today’s paper. Perfect timing! My essay, previously published on June 26, 2018 follows. I’m one with Stephan Pastis, who’s both comic creator and in this strip, comic character. Those dual roles are mine in all editions of Rules. Creator and character- sometimes comic and sometime tragic. Always honest.

IN THE DARK

June 26, 2018

Today is National Sunglasses Day.  It squeezed in around National Doughnut Day, National Iced Tea Day, and National Biscuit Day. The list goes on and on…

So called ‘Hallmark Holidays’ (Grandparent’s Day, Boss’s Day and Secretary’s Day) set the stage for the ‘Social Media Holidays’. Apparently people are so eager to post something on Instagram, Facebook et al, that they jump at the chance, using the fete de jour as their excuse.

I am hopelessly behind on all of this.  Really, it’s blissfully behind.  I only recently learned the social media acronym, FOMO-fear of missing out- gluing yourself to your device to avoid the anxiety that missing a current social event might provoke. 

As not to be a total Luddite, I’ve coined an antonym (or antidote) to FOMO.  POMO- pleasure of missing out. Relieved that you aren’t in everyone else’s business.  Honestly, doesn’t your own business keep you busy enough to not fret over others’? 

So today, I’m celebrating National Sunglasses Day by staying in the dark.  Join me for some POMO.  Now that’s something to celebrate!

49301

Do or don’t do. There is no try.

A fine rule, in my book.

Mission accomplished. 26.2 miles, done! All five boroughs traversed on fleet-enough feet. Money raised for a very worthy cause.

One exhausted but exhilarated runner wearing bib # 49301 earned another marathon “doubloon”. Unlike the soccer trophies (the ones highlighted in the July 12, 2017 essay, When A Trophy, Isn’t), this medal is well-deserved.

If you’ve ever run a marathon, you’ll know what I mean. I ran one once. It was a very long time ago, but the memory hasn’t faded. I know I never, ever want to do one again. I don’t even want to try! If you’ve never run one, let me assure you that the difference between 142 minutes (first place female) and 248 minutes (for #49301) is splitting hairs.

Woo-hoo Arrington!

P.S. In this picture, sent by a friend, she’s the only female- white top, black bottom. We’re pretty sure we don’t want the “suitable for framing” professional photo from the finish line.

'Tis the Season

                               "The Clash of the Quadrupeds"   Artists Unknown

It’s October. It’s summertime hot and Halloween is nearly 3 weeks away.  But costumes are marked down. Candy Corn has been on the shelves so long it’s getting stale. (Is that even possible?) Have retailers gone crazy?  If so, it’s because we consumers have indulged, even encouraged, their wanton disregard for the calendar.

Pity the turkeys, cornucopia and Pilgrim paraphernalia. Because of a cruel calendar twist, they’ll scarcely get any time in the retail spotlight. ‘Tis the season means the holiday time of the year but let’s just call it Christmas.

From big box to boutique, the story is pretty much the same.  The tinsel and trappings, the hot new items and the old standbys-they’re all on display.  And for those eager for the ledger to turn from red to black, the season can’t come soon enough.

It’s easy to get worked up over the holiday time of the year, but I’m an equal opportunity curmudgeon when it comes to seasonal misbehavior.  Consider swimsuits.  Unless you’re in need of “resort wear”, swim togs in January is cruel and unusual.  And by the time you do need them (say summer), they’re in short supply.  If it’s after July 4th, forget it.   The lawn and garden stores begin peddling their fall wares when you’re still searching in vain for that swimsuit.  Never mind that it’s hot, dry and decidedly the wrong time to buff your lawn.  And back-to school clothing and supplies before you’ve even forgotten your multiplication tables? What a killjoy.

What about the seasonal misbehavior of the type exhibited by the “Clash of The Quadrupeds”? Seasons’ Greetings! That’s seasons, plural, so the apostrophe is right where it belongs, which is not the same as where it should belong. 

There must be lots of people who are not troubled by this disconnect between the calendar and retail inventory. Otherwise, what seems like an obvious mis-match, wouldn’t exist.  But I can’t be the only person who wishes I could buy a swimsuit in June, Christmas tree lights in December, and some Candy Corn without tripping over the reindeer.

This is a true story.  One year we decided to go to the mountains and buy a freshly cut tree.  We had also decided to celebrate Christmas during Christmas, meaning starting, not ending on December 25.  So off we went on December 22.  It never entered our minds that we’d waited too late to buy a tree.  But we almost had.  After several failed attempts (locked chains across entrances, closed for the season signs) we finally found a entrance, drove up to the tree man’s house and knocked on the door.  He looked at us like we were crazy. Didn’t we know you can’t buy a tree that close to Christmas?  And I guess he had a point. He’d been fussing with those trees all year and he was ready for the Grinch and some eggnog.  We looked pretty desperate and he said if we’d cut it and load it ourselves, we could take any tree in sight for $10.  Well, let’s just say he got the better end of that deal.  We were feeling pretty woeful about our tree. On our return home, we saw the tree lot that we typically patronize was closed.  Not temporarily - but for the year.  So much for woe!  Once in the stand, our tree’s stock continued to rise. The strands of lights that had been a little iffy the previous year were very iffy this year. Only two of many strands even flickered.  We made do, but also made a note to buy more Christmas lights the following September.

Once the ornaments were hung, and some eggnog had been consumed, our little tree didn’t look half bad.   In fact, it looked just fine- maybe perfect. The next September, we ignored the memo to buy more lights. We’d learned that we really didn’t like the lights that much.  About that $10 deal… we came out better than we thought.  Imperfect perfection came to us in the form of a spindly tree, just like for Charlie Brown.

Exhilarating Excess

 "Excess on occasion is exhilarating. It prevents moderation from acquiring the deadening effect of a habit."  

                                                                                                                     W. Somerset Maugham

Given my devotion to Rules and reliance on habits, my enthusiasm for this idea might be suspect.  My defense rests on this. “The Rules create the space so parts of your life are Michelin Five Star, extraordinary and clearing the highest of bars. You get to go all out when it matters- when better is better; and you get to cruise when good is good enough.” Maugham’s quote is pithier than mine, but we’re barking up the same tree.  And the root of the matter is this:  think before you do.  Decide when you need to be exhilarated and when a little deadening isn’t nearly as bad as it might sound.

Splurge, once-in-a-lifetime, whole hog, extravaganza are proxies for excess. And exhilarate, they do.  Occasional excess isn’t the problem.  A little is good, which doesn’t mean that a lot is better and exhilaration without any restraint is always a problem.  Maybe not right away, but always, eventually. 

If every meal is whole hog, every shopping trip a splurge, every event an extravaganza and every trip a once-in-a-lifetime- exhilaration becomes the habit. We expect it. We demand it.  And that’s when things go haywire.

On occasion means every now and then.  Infrequently.  Once in a while, so the excess surprises and enlivens.  Inherent in endorsing occasional excess, is an implicit endorsement of usually letting enough be enough.  Enough uncomplicates life.

I’ll admit that Moderation can be a dull fellow. He usually travels with habits, routines and rules, but he sometimes enjoys the company of Excess to liven things up.  Let’s be like Moderation and appreciate that the ease and efficiency of ordinary, make room for the exhilaration of excess.

So what about the dog in a weenie suit?  This ridiculous costume is my excess.  And it was exhilarating.  Pia’s mistress has been hounding me to knit a Halloween hotdog costume for a long time.  Seeing this ready-made version opened my eyes to the reality that I was never going to knit a hotdog suit for a Morkie.  Halloween is still weeks away, but the fetching outfit was already reduced 40% to make way for turkeys and jingle bells.  So I abandoned restraint and I splurged!

A “short leash” is a good default. It makes “off leash” exhilarating.  And masquerading as a hotdog…a fine way to go whole hog!

The Uncaged Bird Sings

About that fancy cage.  What's it costing you?  Do you enjoy the bells and mirrors or does a taste of freedom sound more satisfying? We are mostly prisoners of our own making.  Set yourself free.  Take charge of your things. Bird-brained might be smarter than you think!   

Perfection's Detractor, Round Two

This article in the WSJ caught my eye.  Apparently the very large house, formerly known as McMansion, has been rebranded as Megamansion. What exactly qualifies a house for this distinction?  Features, square footage, price?  With developers’ egos in mind, maybe hubris house is a more apt designation.  The most mega of the featured mansions was a 100,000 square foot, single- family residence, costing $500 million- a mere $5,000 a square foot.

The other mega-contenders in the story were a bit less pricy and capacious, but still over the top by any rational measure.  Crocodile skin-lined elevators, helipads, jellyfish aquariums, 40 seat movie theatres, candy walls (whatever those are)… veritable “monuments to excess”.  I’ll say!  These “modern-day palaces” stand in stark contrast to the little jewel box of a home which starred in my earlier essay, Perfection.

The notion of enough is the soundtrack in my head.  It informs my decision-making. It’s my North Star.   We’re all entitled to our own measure of “enough”, so I’ll not try and change the minds of these megamansion developers.  To think I could do so would be arrogant.  But I will remind you of the words of two great thinkers.

“Small dwellings discipline the mind.  Large ones weaken it.”    Da Vinci

“Perfection is achieved not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing more to take away.”  Antoine de St. Exupery.

Perfection's Detractor

Many things are best, just done.  Learn when good suffices or when better is worthwhile.  When neither of these is adequate, you'll know you're going for perfection.  Jeremy's right about one thing.  Perfection can be the enemy of the good and the done.  Aiming for perfect when good is a plenty is often a way to procrastinate.  But I bet Jeremy's English teacher will remind him that the done didn't do it this time.

Habits

"We first make our habits, then our habits make us."  John Dryden

This line is catchy and easy to remember and probably is a misquote.  What is attributable to the English writer is this. "Ill habits gather by unseen degrees, As brooks make rivers, Rivers run to seas."    While the lines from the poem aren't quite as pithy as the adage, they tell a fuller tale. 

Habits, good and ill, are powerful things.  They feed on themselves. Actions that begin with little to no conscious thought, become patterns. Patterns become deeper and more entrenched. And it's only in retrospect that you realize that the groove you're in is so deep that changing will take some doing.  You've formed a habit. Excellent- if the habit is a "good"one-one that makes life easier, healthier, happier. Like putting your car keys in a certain place or flossing your teeth or paying your bills on time.  Good habits ensure that lots of things that could be confusing and time-consuming become simple and routine.  The proverbial wheel doesn't need to be re-invented hundreds of times a day. We know and are comfortable with our habitual ways of doing and being.

But Dryden writes of ill habits. What about those that make your life harder, sicker and sadder?  They are sneaky, insidious, and stealthy. Little by little, a seemingly innocuous behavior becomes a troubling pattern. The babbling brook, becomes a racing river and the river empties into the churning sea. What started out with little to no conscious thought, certainly with no intention of doing oneself or others harm, has become a way of life.  By unseen degrees, you're in a mess.

So how do we break destructive habits? How do we stop the  knee-jerk actions and reactions that we live to regret?  Name the behavior.  Identify its replacement. And then stick with it.  Habits die hard. The bad ones are especially hard to bump off.  Some self-help Pollyanna suggested twenty-one days was the magic number for habit formation.  And it does seem that forming bad habits is much easier and faster than forming good ones.  But more careful research indicates that a habit doesn't fully root for at least two months.  And old, really bad habits might take a whole lot longer to vanquish.   

I'm telling you about my ill habit abatement plan as a way to keep on track.  You know, public proclamation makes throwing in the towel a little harder. The copper chain has twelve loops, one per month. I'm not taking any chances!  I've hung the chain in a prominent place where it will serve as a visual reminder.  Clipping a loop will be ceremonial. The goal is perfection- nothing more to take away. The chain and the ill habit- vanquished. 

I'll keep you posted.

Here's the Ill Habit Abatement update. Come September 1, 2018  the last loop will be clipped and discarded.  How satisfying!  It's been a good reminder but I won't be sorry to see it go.   My good habit has taken root but it's still a sapling and could succumb to neglect.  But life is easier with this good habit, so I'm optimistic that the sapling will one day be a sturdy tree that holds up effortlessly.

“We are what we repeatedly do.  Excellence then is not an act, but a habit.”       Aristotle

Bullseye!

If we spent even a fraction of the time exercising our restraint muscle as we do on the better known ones, we might be not only healthier, but happier.  Practice saying no to a bunch of pretty things you will not buy.  And for the love of Pete, remember to say no to a bunch of so-so things you won't buy.  Setting some guidelines, I call them Rules, lets you create an emotional firewall between impulse and intentionality.  Think before you spend, lest you are parted from your $200.  

A reminder from my 21st century comic-enthusiast although it sounds like something from the 19th century Devil's Dictionary.  "Shopping:  Money in search of a distraction".  Sounds right on Target to me.

F Minus?

One of my Rules- “Curate Your Collection. Sounds like something reserved for a museum or library, but it works with possessions. They are your collection.  Editing isn’t a matter of just getting rid of things you used to like, but of getting rid of the ones you’ve always disliked.” 

Your junk.

It's the stuff you used to like and the stuff you’ve always disliked. So search your pockets and your pocketbooks.  Your cabinets, closets and cars.  And certainly your paid storage units.

How’s your report card?

Be a fine curator and turn that F Minus into an A Plus by getting rid of your junk and taking good care of your collection- the things you do need, use, and love.

Got Junk?

In a word, yes.  It should have been obvious.  This picture doesn’t lie. Well, maybe it lies a little bit.  There really is a lot more junk in our house that needs to go.  But this is a decent start.  And it all began with the story by The Minimalists that recently caught my attention.  When we sort our things into only three categories- essentials, non-essentials and junk…

“Sadly, most of our things belong in the junk pile. These are the artifacts we like—or, more accurately, think we like—but they don’t serve a purpose or bring us joy. The average American home contains more than 300,000 items, and most of it is junk. While this junk often masquerades as indispensable, it actually gets in the way of a more meaningful life.”

 The line between non-essential and junk is blurry.  It’s different for all of us.  And lines shift over time.  One time essentials or very usefuls can become junk as children grow up, housing changes and technological advances render old gadgets dinosaurs.

Just because something once was valuable or useful or loved, doesn’t mean it gets a free pass forever. An honest reassessment of your things can be an eye- opener.  It was for me.  It doesn’t matter if it’s in good shape. It doesn’t matter if you have room for it to be nicely stored.  It doesn’t matter if you paid a lot of money for it. It’s still junk.  If you don’t use it, find someone who will.  If you claim to love it but still never use it, maybe you don’t love it as much as you thought you did.

Letting go of your junk... winning by losing.