When it comes to the "Let it go!" step in organizing by STYLE, each of us faces our own challenges. For some, it's an emotional attachment to our possessions, for others, it's the expense of an item that no longer serves us, and, for those raised with a "waste not, want not" mentality, it's the idea that we might actually need this thing some day.
Or perhaps a combination of any or all of these three, depending on the item in question.
Recently, I've become aware of a particular collection of my own that falls into that last category (no, it's not the collection of containers in my basement -- that's old news). It's boxes and packing material.
As part of a generation that had to go to the grocery store to beg for boxes whenever I had to move, I've had a hard time parting with boxes for quite some time. When my daughter went to college, I hung on to even more. Who knew when she might need them to move, or when I might need a "just right" box to ship a care package?
I duly weeded out the boxes (as I promised my husband I would) after she graduated from college but, in the past few years, I began saving more packaging materials to go inside the boxes. And, since these years encompassed the pandemic, there were a lot more packages from which to choose.
Ironically, this new habit was due, in part, to my ongoing resolutions to use less paper and plastic. I couldn't keep merchants from using plastic airbags, but I could make sure they got re-used instead of just tossed away. And, while I was delighted when the boxes that held my purchases were filled with paper instead of plastic (thank you, Kate Spade and Nika's Home soy candles, among others), I began saving that, too.
A few weeks ago, I noticed that my collection was getting out of hand. I duly rounded up the bubble wrap overflow (did I mention the bubble wrap?) and corralled it into a large bag. Setting it aside, I promised myself I'd do something about this. Soon.
Yeah. Soon.
Last weekend, as we took down the Christmas tree and organized the ornaments, I went in search of the right materials to upgrade a system that amounted to organized, and then I gave up and tossed everything into the last bin.
Who am I kidding? I knew exactly where to look.
In the basement, I quickly located the perfect box (a lidded box I'd saved from a basement overhaul over a year ago) and the perfect packing materials. When I was finished, I was pleased with my system for the first time in a very long time. The box full of leftovers had been replaced with a neatly packed (and cushioned) box of ornaments.
If you're cringing, thinking I took this as evidence that I didn't need to get rid of my "collection," you can relax. I did not, in fact, succumb to the positive reinforcement that threatened to override my judgment.
I also didn't get rid of everything.
My husband came to my rescue, though, promising to take the paper off my hands and make sure it got recycled (something I'm pretty sure our local waste company does not do). He promised me he knew exactly where to take it, and that place was not the trash can
Next, I sorted through what remained, finding homes for everything, and going back to a basic guideline I use often, but had failed to comply with this time around. Once those homes are full, I cannot acquire anything new.
In other words, I reduced my stash in two ways: some I used (for the ornaments) and some I recycled, both in keeping with my resolutions to reduce my use of paper and plastic. The rest I stored, with two additional rules. The first is really sticking to the rule of adding nothing new to a space that's already full. No room? Out it goes.
The second? A hard "one in/one out" when it comes to boxes. If the perfect box lands on my front step, I can only keep it if I recycle an imperfect equivalent.
Sometimes, "Let it go!" is an easy step: things that have gone bad, things past their prime, things we no longer feel any attachment to. Other times, our unwillingness to follow that seemingly simple guideline can catch us by surprise. If you, like me, find yourself in the second situation, a few simple rules might be just what you need to keep things from taking up more than their fair share of your living space, and buying yourself some time to consider what's necessary and what's not.
Meanwhile, be patient with yourself. It's a process.