Recently, I had the experience of entering a house that was so crowded with stuff that not a single flat surface was free. It was really hard to move in there. I don’t know if these people are hoarders, necessarily, or a family with small children living in a space much too small for them, but nevertheless, it was my worst nightmare. I didn’t get a feeling of home sweet home in that place as much as I felt overwhelmed and stressed out.
Maybe it’s the introvert in me, but my brain seems to interpret clutter as the physical equivalent of noise. This place made me feel like I was in a heavy metal concert, seated right in front of the speakers. My instinct was to get out as quickly as possible.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying I’m the neatest, most organized person in the world. No, I have my fair share of clutter. But this place made my home seem minimalist by comparison. My home is functional. There are tables where one can actually sit down and eat a meal. There are counters where vegetables are chopped. There are floors that are visible and walkable. One doesn’t have to climb over things to navigate the space. When I get home at the end of the day, it feels like a sanctuary, not a prison.
I would not be able to rest with so much stuff around me. I would feel no inner peace. I wouldn’t be able to think, let alone feel comfortable. I’d feel as if I had no opportunity to unplug from the world. I need that.
I’m doing my best to get rid of stuff. My husband and I rarely exchange gifts, even at Christmas. We’d much rather have experiences and create memories.
If I’m going to hoard something, I’d much rather hoard inner peace.
The ultimate form of recycling: Buy my book, read it, and then donate it to your local public library or your neighborhood little free library! http://amzn.to/2mlPVh5