Perhaps, last night, I should have just shared this article with you. It encapsulates my own feelings about the decluttering process. In fact, I am leaning toward thinking that decluttering is no longer the right word for me. Maybe a better way to put this is "finding myself amongst it all." Too long? Probably so.
Some Favorite Excerpts:
"I called it Operation Hobo: a quest to pare down my possessions to a scant 75 cubic feet of cargo, give or take the passenger seat.
I spent a year on it. I didn’t just downsize; I peeled myself like an onion, shedding previously unarticulated misconceptions about how much I needed to own to be happy."
"The joy of Operation Hobo caught me off-guard, I think. The most ordinary tea mug has a precious heft in your hands when you’ve chosen it so deliberately, when you’ve eyed a cluttered box of them on the floor of your kitchen, picked it up, and thought, this."
My car is substantially smaller than hers. And I don't want to make the goal of fitting into a car just to make a goal; that is rather arbitrary. Instead, I'm doing a lot of hard thinking of just where I do want to fit. Certainly, I want to fit well in my living space (although, to be fair, our apartment is quite large for just two folks). I think the best goal, currently, is to want to fit well in my own life.