“I am what is mine. Personality is the original personal property.” – Norman O. Brown
Ok, so I’m going to start off by saying that no, I have not watched the Netflix show Tidying Up, nor have I read anything by Marie Kondo. It has, however, been the topic of conversation in my staff room and every social media platform. Watching everyone talk or document their decluttering has inspired me, despite the fact that cleaning my house gives me anxiety. This is the main reason why I haven’t brought myself to watch the show.
My house is filled with stuff – mainly vinyl records, books, and clothes. And while this stuff does end up making areas of my house look cluttered, I find that it helps assert my identity. When someone walks into my house, they can easily observe that I have a passion for music, art, and travel through the variety of collections of books and records I have on display. A lot of these items have memories attached to them, therefore making them more meaningful than just average trinkets. I’m definitely not a hoarder, but I would describe myself and my husband as collectors. This does, however, make it a lot more difficult for us to clean up, even if there are items collecting dust that no longer have a purpose like broken laptops or books I never really connected with.
I guess with me, it’s more about organizing than throwing things away. I tend to put things in piles or a junk room with the mentality ‘out of sight, out of mind’. But once I do set time aside to tackle a mess, when in doubt, I just need to throw it out. This has actually proven to be a lot more difficult for my husband than me. Everything we own just seems to have some kind of personal connection that makes it difficult to let go of. The same thing can also be said about my classroom. I just have so many books, binders, and posters, all of which I think hold some kind of importance to my teaching or make my classroom an extension of my personality.
Though it is important to declutter, I could never be a minimalist because the stuff in my house defines me. I think empty houses stress me out more than ones filled with stuff. For me, houses like this have no personality, are sterile, and feel more like a hotel than a home. When I’m gone, my stuff will no longer matter, so while I’m alive I want to enjoy the stuff that I have.
