We read about experts who can help de-clutter our homes and make the difficult decision as to what we should get rid of. This is a dilemma many of us hoarders face as the storage space available and the items one has collected over the years face a stand-off.
Women are told that the overwhelming number of clothes they have collected can be sorted out through a simple question to be asked of each item. Have I worn this in the past year or so? If the answer is no, you can safely put it away in a bag marked “To Be Given Away Immediately”. Sounds simple, doesn’t it?
But the execution of what seems a simple task is fraught with emotional overtones. You take a look at that worn out pair of jeans and the years flash past before your eyes. You recall all the occasions it has been worn and its impeccable record of service.
Then there’s that dress you bought on a whim. You told yourself then that though it would require some nerve to carry it off, you would find the courage to wear it some day. Somehow that day never arrived although it was a serious contender for your approval for that special evening out.
As you cast it one last, long lingering look, your hand reached out for another more comfortable outfit. And back it went into the deep recesses of your cupboard.
It is easy to advise others on what they should do without but when it comes to getting rid of personal junk, possessiveness rears its ugly head. We know from a reading of scriptures that material goods are of no value and that spirituality is what really counts. But being human we are obsessed with the acquisition of earthly goods. And this weakness is fed by the constant barrage of advertisements.
When we were children, our parents would periodically order us to clean up our act by getting rid of all the clutter that seemed to be taking over the house. So we would go to our respective cupboards and pull out everything in order to examine our collections.
As we took out an object, ready to consign it to the rubbish heap, a glimpse from the corner of an eye of an avaricious look from a sibling and back that object went into storage. For we suddenly realized its worth which was in direct proportion to how highly it was coveted by others.
Halfway through this chore we would be reminded of other more pressing matters and off we would go, leaving the room looking like a tornado had just swept through. On our return (which was hastened by that look in a parent’s eye) the mess was sorted out by simply putting everything back and reaching the conclusion that this mammoth task called for more time and energy than we had to spare.
On one occasion this group of friends decided to act as de-clutter experts and exorcise the house of a pal of all the junk that was threatening to swallow the inmates.
The husband’s permission was sought and readily granted. A brief flicker of hope lit his eyes even as he shook his head in despair as if to say he didn’t really believe we would meet with success but he was willing to give us the benefit of the doubt.
Four hours later, the group of conspirators had redeemed themselves in the eyes of the man of the house. But there was a certain woman in that residence who, for the rest of the day, drifted aimlessly around the place like a lost soul, unable to concentrate on anything and with a desolate look in her eyes.
