The Year of Living More With Less: Worldly Possessions

I decided it was high time for a TYLMWL update. Also, ironically, I can't post a trip review of our boat tour along the Channel Islands yesterday because I'm still sorting through 855 pictures. And that doesn't count the ones on my phone. Clearly, I have some work to do in that department before we ring in 2019.

But I can talk about what it was like to complete the Konmari Challenge in PA and what it has been like to unpack what remained in CA.

First of all, if the moving company's weight coming from Kansas to Pennsylvania was correct (and who really knows because our moving company was so shady), then I sold/donated 13,000 pounds of stuff. As the garbage bags of donations started flying out the door right after Ash Wednesday, I would say it certainly felt like 13,000 pounds, even in the first week. But as the days turned to weeks, progress slowed and eventually ground to a halt while I searched for housing options in CA. With the exception of Neal's belongings, I did eventually finish holding every item we own in my hands and asking myself if it sparked joy. I didn't do Neal's things because I'm not Neal and only he knows if they spark joy or not. And he's not one to ask that question as he is more focused on whether it serves a purpose.

Which is why we have not 1, not 2, not 3, but FOUR containers of cords. My husband is a cord hoarder and he makes no apologies for it. However, I must admit that there has never been a time when I needed a cord and he didn't have it.

Although I was still finishing Konmari'ing the house as I pre-bagged items, I did finish and I learned some things about myself:

1. I have an art/photo/frame addiction. The more hyperlocal the art is to a place where we've been stationed, the better chance I have of owning it. It took 23 boxes to pack all of my art, canvas prints, framed photos and posters. That's a little bit embarrassing because we will never have enough walls to display everything I kept. But sometimes we have more wall space than other times so I'm going to keep it because it all sparked joy.

2. I seem to have a bit of a "soft gray t-shirt with some kind of design" addiction. They fade, they pill, they are all a bit too big...but I keep buying them. Gray tshirt and black yoga pants - that's my uniform these days.

 3. If the small kitchen appliances ever decide to gang up and wage war on us, we don't have a fighting chance. Because...there are a lot of them. We can: make sushi, make cheese, make beer, pop popcorn, make paninis, dehydrate stuff, grind coffee, make margaritas, slow cook things, slice, dice, peel an apple, make ice cream, juice a beet and make soup. And that's just what I can see from the couch. The problem is, I love that I can decide at 2 PM on a Tuesday afternoon that we are going to make beef jerky that day or spend an hour making ice cream on a Thursday night. So, they all have to find a place to live because they are all staying. I just hope they don't decide to unionize.

 4. Books and throw pillows. I don't think I need to say anything more because I believe most of you know and are nodding your heads in absolute agreement.


So, I know that I had an amazing crew of packers, but I also think the reason they were able to get it done in one day has something to do with my efforts to declutter and organize the house. Here's what no one has said yet, though. When you move as often as we do and you complete the Konmari Method, now everything that sparks joy is on that moving truck. For the last 5 moves, if something sparked joy and I would be devastated to lose it, I hand carried it in the car/truck/RV to the next duty station. But now I would have to hand carry everything. That resulted in a lot more anxiety around the packing and moving process than I had anticipated. When I voiced my concerns to some fellow Army wives, although they were understanding and appreciated the dilemma, they also answered with, "it's just stuff and it's all replaceable. And what's irreplaceable, you hand carry." And I did. I had 6 plastic bins full of Blue's original art, gifts from faraway places and handwritten letters/cards from war. But what can't be ignored is the fact that everything that went on the truck was still stuff I held in my hands and felt joy. It is just stuff but it's joyful stuff. And I had a hard time letting it go with someone else. Even the ice cream maker and the lap desk and the IKEA throw pillows. I struggled with all of it and tried not to think about it getting lost or destroyed along the way.

I think that's what needs to be said about what happens when a military spouse uses the Konmari Method. Every few years, some people who just want to get a job done and get paid will come into your house and throw everything that sparks joy into boxes and then attempt to move it some distance. And that will be stressful because now it's not just stuff.

It also needs to be said that even though Marie Kondo says you will only need to go through this process once, I disagree. Tastes change (I joyfully sold my heavy-as-lead Pier One drinking glasses at the yard sale because they were gorgeous to me in 2006 but cumbersome and outdated in 2018) and kids grow out of things. They grow out of sippy cups and Thomas the Train and blue jeans. We mature and evolve so just as our taste buds change every 7 years, I think that's a reasonable time frame for another pass through the worldly possessions.

I also decided to do a home inventory for this move, meaning that I grouped like items together (as many as I could squeeze into a photo) and documented their existence and condition before the move. This took longer than I thought originally but went quickly once I established a process. Although it didn't help with knowing what was in each box, if a box (or like PA, multiple boxes) went missing, I could deduce what had been lost. Every single item made it on this move. I wish I had done this before the PA crew lost half of my grandmother's fine china.

As for unpacking (and perhaps it was the care and attention paid during packing), it went remarkably smoothly. Boxes were mostly labeled and, once the furniture was in place, I could unpack and put away one room per day. We have been here for 20 days and every box is unpacked. The house is set up with pictures on the walls and floors cleared of packing material - which is unprecedented considering we didn't have Mom and Anna (a dynamite duo with a work ethic that we vastly underestimated) to help this time. And, most importantly, I have one paper bag, which is half-full, of items that I decided to get rid of after unpacking the house. That has never happened. I usually have another large purge after the house is unpacked. This one paper bag tells me that the Konmari Method was especially effective.

So, I can only say good things about taking the time to look at what you own, ask yourself why you own it and if it is something you love/sparks joy/can't live without. Although the question may be different for you, whatever it is, ask it and decide whether your worldly possessions are lifting you up or dragging you down. Because we can't take them with us when we die and most likely, our kids will drop it all off at Goodwill on the way out of town. Love it or leave it behind.

The Little Couch That Could

As y'all know, we are chin-deep in getting ready for another move. I started Kon-mari'ing the house in January (with apologies to Marie Kondo for turning her method into a verb, but to say that I'm "decluttering" or "tidying up" really doesn't do justice to what is going on around here...it's significantly more serious than that). And now our garage is plum full of items that sparked no joy when I held them all those months ago.

Except one of the Keurigs and a microwave managed to make it back into the house. To be fair, the movers busted our last Keurig and it was a whole new level of Dante's hell as I waited for the reimbursement check to come in so we could replace it. Also, I'm fairly certain that the CA house doesn't have a microwave (because it's the military and they figure they are giving you a roof, some rooms and a refrigerator, you can figure out the rest).

Also...this couch.

A quick story about this couch. It was our first furniture purchase as an active duty family when we were stationed in Georgia. We already had a beautiful Haverty's leather sectional, with recliners at each end, but...it didn't fit in the base housing. So, we scooted on down to the AAFES furniture store one afternoon and bought something that was comfy, leather and fit perfectly in our shotgun living room.

(Selfie maternity photos. All you need is a tripod, some props and a baby bump.) 

Well, I take that back. It wasn't SUPER comfortable. It sat REALLLLLLLY low to the floor. Like...on the floor. Our knees were never at a 90 degree angle when we were sitting on it and we had to hoist every grandparent (as well as my 9 month pregnant self) off of it when it was time to get up. 

Eventually the too-low couch was excommunicated to the playroom, where it lived until last week. I didn't hold it in my hands but the fact that just looking at it made my knees hurt, told me all I needed to know about how much joy it sparked. Neal hoisted it on his shoulders and hauled it out to the garage, destined to be someone's yard sale bargain. 

As he lowered the couch to set it on the ground, I heard him say, "Huh. Maybe we should put the feet on it if we're going to sell it." 

Wait. What? It has FEET?? As in, it doesn't HAVE to be the world's shortest couch? 

He put the feet on. 

I loved the couch. It was comfortable and one can rise with ease. 

We carried it back into the house, where it will stay until the movers put it on the truck to CA. It has earned a spot in the living room and given us one extra place to sit when company comes to visit. 

I guess the lesson here is if you have your furniture delivered, it's always a good idea to look under it before using it for 8 years. There may be something useful stapled to the bottom. 

The Year of Living More With Less: Catching Fire

A couple of months ago, I mentioned that I was going to try the Konmari Method of sorting and "tidying" the house. Now, here's my disclaimer: I did not read The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo. No...I read about 6 blog posts by people who did read the book. I got the gist and ran with it. Essentially you:
1. Print the list of categories that she provides in the book.

*This has been shared so many times on Pinterest, I can't find the original pinner or know who to credit.

2. Start with clothes (and according to this list, tops, specifically). Gather all of your tops. This is a little more complicated than it sounds. It involves doing the laundry first so that the tops (and really all of your clothes) are clean and ready to be sorted. The Konmari Method suggests gathering all of one category - whether it's books that are in every room of the house or laundry that is clean/dirty/laying on the floor of various closets. Bring all of one category together before starting and it really does help, although admittedly, it is a giant pain in the butt. Resist the urge to just start going room by room instead of gathering all of one category. Seeing ALL of your books in a pile instead of all of the books from one room will really help give you a sense of how many you have and which ones truly spark joy...which brings me to #3.

3. Sparking joy. So, even though I grew up with a psychologist mom, I still found the idea of holding something in my hands and asking myself if it sparked joy to be a pretty big pile of quackery. There is no way that makes any difference in whether I decide to keep or toss something. Except, IT TOTALLY DID. How do I know? I make a major purge before and after every move. This will be our 6th move in 8 years. That's a LOT of purging - more than most non-active duty households, I would presume. And there are items that I've carried with me since our first move and some things I've moved since high school. That is something like 23 moves. Like this...

A bin of journals that I wrote in between 1990 and 2000. There are no profound words of wisdom in there. They do not contain the next great American novel. They are filled with teenage/college angst and over-analyzed conversations with boys (this was mostly before He's Just Not That Into You was written...what a blessing that book would have been to my teenage self). I only had to hold one journal while asking myself if it sparked joy to know that they decidedly did not. In fact, it sparked anxiety and sadness. I tossed every single one of them in the trash.

I can't explain why the question Does this spark joy? works. It just does. It shouldn't be any different than looking at something and wondering if you like it enough to keep it. But asking yourself if something sparks joy overrides the 2 reasons I've kept a lot of stuff: I paid money (sometimes a lot) for it and someone gave it to me. Spending money on an item or the idea that someone else spent money on it has been the deciding factor for keeping a lot of what I've lugged around since I was 17. But when I hold it in my hands and ask the question, I know immediately; yes this sparks joy, or no it doesn't. It doesn't have anything to do with whether I *like* an item. DOES IT SPARK JOY? It has to be that question. (And it helps if you are doing this in silence, although I've had to keep working, even on snow days and weekends, so if there's some 5-year old chatter in the background, it is still possible to hear your own answer.)

Now, I've been mocked somewhat ruthlessly for adhering to this aspect of the method. And that's probably fair because I've ruthlessly mocked others for the same thing. But if you are serious about scaling down, whether you want to live in a tiny house or just clear physical space so that the mental space can be cleared as well, this step is imperative.

My first category, per the list, was my tops and it looked something like this:

Step 1: Gather all the tops in one place. 

Step 2: Hold each one and ask yourself if it sparks joy. Here are some things I learned regarding my tops:

1. I have a shirt from one of the last times I saw my friend, Traci, during a Making Strides for Breast Cancer walk. It says "Traci's Pink Brigade". When I hold it, I don't think of the fun we had at that event; I think of saying goodbye to her as she passed and how deeply I feel her absence from my life. I never wear this shirt because it just makes me too sad. And Traci would be pissed if she knew I was keeping something that made me so heartbroken that I couldn't even bring myself to wear it. Worse, I had shoved it to the back of the drawer because I couldn't even bear to look at it. So, I donated that shirt. And I didn't feel bad about donating it because then I made a little album of photos I took of us, from the time we met until the Oztoberfest in Kansas. And that album sparks so much joy that I actually feel her sitting next to me as I flip through it. I still miss her, but I feel so blessed to have those memories with an amazing woman of God.

2. I own one black shirt, which I bought in Kentucky on one of my trips home. It says something about Kentucky girls and bourbon, but I never wear it because the neck is tight and it's black and black makes me look like I've been rode hard and put up wet. So, even though it appears in this "sorted" picture, it didn't make the final final cut. And now I don't buy black t-shirts...not even the school carnival one last week - even though the money was going to a good cause. I would rather just give them the money.

3. Even I was a little surprised by which shirts sparked joy and which ones did not. I haven't been able to participate in a Wings for our Troops event for quite some time, but I still love wearing the American flag angel wings and thinking of everything my friend, Tami, is doing to help Servicemembers see family members before and after a deployment. But I have to reiterate, holding a shirt and asking myself if it sparked joy resulted in an immediate and strong reaction: either it did or it didn't. It was really that easy. Whether I had gotten my money's worth out of a shirt or whether I would offend someone by getting rid of it really didn't factor into my decision at all...and that's how you declutter a house.

And that left me with this:

Except that's only 1/2 the pile. In that stack are not only clothes that are worn out, but also sweaters that I've only worn once and a few that still have the tags on them. Getting dressed in the morning is so much easier now that my eyes don't have to block out the clothes I don't love. And I have worn more clothes that I love but had forgotten about because they were pushed to the back of the drawer. (Like my "Not everything that starts in Missouri ends in dysentery" t-shirt. If you get that reference, we can absolutely be friends.)

The next step is to decide what to do about the discard pile. In general, if I bought it at Goodwill, back it goes. If it still has the tags or is in excellent condition, it goes to the yard sale (which I am DREADING but is, I suppose, a fact of life if you ever want to get any money back). Some things were so far past their prime that they just went into the trash. It would be an incredibly thrifty thing for me to cut them up and make them into rags but I have actual rags for that. At this point, the KonMari Method says I should thank each item for the role it played in my life.

Yeah. I didn't do that. I barely thank my husband. I'm certainly not thanking a Mossimo v-neck.

Lastly, #4...putting away what's left. The KonMari Method suggests a certain folding method that involves standing up your clothes so you can see them better. I found that I actually prefer rolling them, which is still a change from my previous practice of folding everything. Rolling my shirts, especially my t-shirts, allows me to see them quickly, side-by-side, and choose the one I'm most in the mood to wear.

Although I didn't photograph the entire process, so far I've completed the list up to "office supplies". I even took a week and went through my crafting supplies. I'm serious. It took a week. Scrapbook paper, stamps, pens, embossing powder, beads, Cricut cartridges...I almost gave up. But I kept what sparked joy and donated the rest to a local crafting store. That alone probably makes this move 50 pounds lighter. I also found some lost gems...

Proof that I was a University of Louisville Cardinal before I was a University of Kentucky Wildcat. I vaguely remember making this ID but I can't remember why, except possibly because we were bored and looking for some way to entertain ourselves that didn't involve illegal drugs or pulling a fire alarm.

And...

My Muscular System Manual from massage school, complete with tabs for easy access. A lot of our tests in massage school were open-book, but also timed, hence the tabs. I removed the tabs and kept the book because a lot of things in this world change constantly, but the skeletal system does not.

I'm still working through the rest of the list and I'll show the complete pile of stuff that we are getting rid of when I'm done. I have less than 3 weeks. I should probably get back to work.