I took her to a supermarket

I don’t know why but I had to start it somewhere. And that is what is happening soon. I’m trying to figure out the best way I can do this quickly and it turns out that I need to set things up right to efficiently declutter. Now, this isn’t a case where I’m saying I have to have the right music or it needs to be the right time of day or I need to be in the mood. Given my mental makeup, I get overwhelmed if I try to go through things “in place”. I get distracted, lose track, and end up playing with stuff. But I used to do this – my mom would say “not often and not willingly” – when I was younger. How did I do it?

Well, I would clear a space in my messy room. And by that I mean I would take a section of my room, generally about an eighth of the room, and remove everything from it. I would shovel stuff from one section of the floor to another. Any small furniture would get moved. Stuff would come down from shelves. Then I would go through the now-even-messier seven-eighths of my room and look for everything that belonged in the empty eighth. Once that was complete I would repeat the process with another section. During all of this I would find stuff that I obviously didn’t want (garbage, broken things, clothes I hated, etc) and move it to the hallway to be disposed of.

My bed was always the last section. Now, the only things that belonged on the bed were my bedding and the books I was currently reading. That meant that anything left there was most likely something I didn’t need or want and could be removed.

Now what does all this mean today? It means I am going to clear a space. And when I say that I am going to do it I mean Jules is doing the lion’s share of the work to find new homes for stuff because she is amazing and I’d just throw it out rather than deal with strangers. We have a space that looks like this:

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Not too bad, right? A little cluttered but manageable. But if we pull back the curtains:

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A bunch of stuff we don’t need. A lot of it was not ours originally – neither of us plays piano, which is what you can see a little of under those boxes. Jules has found a new home for the table (it is going away tonight to a needy family) and we are really trying to find someone to take the piano. Other stuff under there includes my old chain mail gear, an air conditioner, boxes and bags of stuff. We are going to clear this out on Saturday.

Then I will relive part of my childhood, hauling stuff I want to keep from my old bedroom down to here. Everything else can go.

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The symbol is not the dream

When I was young I wanted to drum but I didn’t have encouragement. I remember being told many times to “stop banging” on whatever it was at the moment – a margarine tub, a bucket, or even all of my mom’s pots and pans upended on the floor like a drum kit. They tried to have my dad teach me guitar but my fingers just wouldn’t move right. I joined band and the teacher made me a saxophonist. I even tried learning bass as a teenager. None of that felt right. Part of me always wanted to drum.

Years later I shared this desire with someone very near and dear to me. Another friend had purchased a doumbek and in hushed tones, as if I were embarrassed to admit it, I told her that I had always wanted to do that too. She excitedly told me that I should – but I didn’t right away. Maybe because that friend had just started and I didn’t want to “copy” her. Maybe I was just scared.

A few months later we went to an event put on by a group in the Society for Creative Anachronism. It was called Pennsic and it was incredible. Lots of classes, performances, food, music, parties, great people. And merchants. Several of those merchants sold musical instruments. I decided to splurge and get a doumbek, because who knows if I’d get an opportunity back in Wisconsin. If I had known then what I knew just six months later, I wouldn’t have gotten it – because it was the wrong style for the way I would end up playing. And if I had known then what I knew a 18 months later I would have waited until I got home because not quite 100 miles from my house was a master drum maker.

In that year and a half I purchased five or six drums of varying low to mediocre quality. All but one of those drums has been given away. I purchased two doumbeks from Abdul Hamid Alwan, a wonderful man with a great shop in Milwaukee, WI that sold many, many things. And in the back of that shop were drums.

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The one on the right is the first drum I purchased there. It was great and wonderful and I loved playing it. The drum on the left (with the hard case) is one that Hamid used for a while when he performed. It is a gorgeous drum that I bought to play at my first wedding. That marriage didn’t last long and, while this drum is even nicer to play than the first, I could never really bring myself to play it much.

Anyway, I posted on Facebook that I am selling them. Two drums from a now retired master drum maker whose clients included professional musicians in the Middle East. Both have meant a lot to me. But they deserve to be in homes where they bring music and joy.

But don’t worry, I still have this lovely drum…

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Switcheroo

I haven’t posted in a couple of days because, well, lots of reasons. Busy time at work (month end can be like that). Getting back to roller derby. Morning workouts taking time from writing. But also because I’ve had to shift my method of getting rid of stuff.

One thing I can have problems with is long term time estimation. If there is a long time before something happens then there is always a long time before it happens. At least there is until reality slaps me in the face with a reminder that there is only a short time. That’s what happened here. Jules informed me that we had less than two months until we moved. Not really enough time for me to leisurely filter things out. Nope, I need to “get a wriggle on” as Jules says.

But as I’ve said before, sticking me in a room and telling me to go through everything turns into me working hard for 15-30 minutes, getting overwhelmed, and then being distracted by things. And I can’t rely on Jules to constantly keep me company while I do everything. So I’m trying to come up with ways to do this that minimize the “supervision” I need with this to keep on track. I have some thoughts, but suggestions are always appreciated.

Life gets busy

Things have gotten busy. A bout of food poisoning, a dentist appointment, working late, and a planned trip to watch roller derby. But I am committed to decluttering. Here are the 22 items for the four days, all in one fell swoop.

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There is no one thread behind the books. Some I have other copies of. Some I have as ebooks.  Some I will never read again (or just never read). Here they are clutter, somewhere elae they may be loved.

Gifts

Giving away something that was given to me is difficult. I guess I feel that on some level I am rejecting the gift or the gift giver. But am I really honoring that relationship by letting that potentially well thought out symbol become meaningless background noise? Or worse, am I assigning meaning to a last minute, “Oh shit, I have to get Val something” selection? Either way, the importance is in the relationship, not the token.

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These are from yesterday and today. Each one was a gift.

A flask from the Throttle Rockets, a Rat City Rollergirls home team. Roller derby for those unfamiliar. Jules got this for me early in our relationship. She knew I liked derby and that I needed a flask. This was the only one that she could get that combined both at that time. I have since purchased a larger one that I use more often – this was my “loaner flask”.

A handmade belt from an old SCA friend. I got it at my then local group’s Yule party. I cherished it but never got a chance to wear it.

Two wooden spoon/drumsticks. That’s right. Drumsticks with wooden spoons on the other end. A thoughtful gift, as I like cooking AND drumming. But they don’t work well for either.

A hand held Sudoku game. Kate got me this for Christmas many years ago. And I played it A LOT. However I have gotten out of my Sudoku phase and it has languished for several years.

A biography of Johnny Cash. Another present from Jules, this one from about a year ago. I’ve wanted to read it but just couldn’t. I can’t really explain why. The book (like many others) just feels wrong. Not content but how it feels in my hands. Okay, maybe I can explain why, but not until just now.

Reason behind the actions

This morning I remembered the topic I wanted to write about on Friday. The problem was I didn’t actually remember what I wanted to write. I had the topic but not the details. So I went about my day, keeping the topic in the back of my mind. And this is actually quite apropos to the topic – why am I choosing minimalism?

Minimalism to me seems the best choice for living with intent and meaning. Too much of my life has been chasing money to afford more stuff and a larger place to put the stuff. And then getting myself stuck in bad situations because I can’t afford to do anything else. Or staying home doing nothing because I can’t afford a vacation, or a weekend away, or a day trip, thanks to a large chunk of my income going towards rent, excess services, debt repayment, or more stuff to assuage my overall dissatisfaction. There’s a reason it is called the Rat Race, that unthinking process of work, buy stuff, work.

That’s not what I want to do anymore. I want to do stuff, not own it. I want to be able to go to a roller derby tournament somewhere. I want to take Jules to see the full solar eclipse in 2017. I want to spend a week in a cabin on a storm drenched coast, with the winds howling, a fire roaring, and my dog snuggled next to me. I want to write.

But that is hard to do when all of your money goes to other people for things you don’t need.

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These are the first skates I bought, five years ago, before I started playing roller derby. At the time I knew that I wanted to try playing and knew that I would need skates. So I picked these up at the Oaks Park skate shop. Just a few weeks later I would have to make a choice between joining a roller derby league and buying Devo tickets. I chose derby and that has made all the difference. Three or four months after this I ended up buying better skates. For those keeping track, that means these have been sitting around for four and a half years. No, I’m not going to throw them out. They will go to my league’s loaner gear.

Life happens

I had a great idea for a post yesterday. It was going to be amazing. Then life happened. Had to deal with the old cell phone company about an unexpected charge in the morning. Worked much later than I usually do. Ran out of the limited hours in the day and did not write anything. So not only no post but no decluttering.

Does that mean I get to skip a day? Well, it could. Nothing wrong with that. I don’t have a deadline for this. The only ramification would be that a few things stay around longer. No need to beat myself up over that. But this week I decided to make up for it. Yesterday would have been six items and today is seven items. So I present to you my thirteen items.

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From upper left to lower right:

  • Duffle bag with some brewing gear. I haven’t made mead since moving to Portland.
  • Three packages of metal shot. For the wrist rocket I don’t use.
  • Juggling sticks. They light up and are really neat but I don’t like their feel and balance.
  • Trophy Queen purse. This belonged to Jules but wasn’t her style so she gave it to me. My style has changed.
  • Leather flyswatter. Kind of cool concept but doesn’t work for me. Never used.
  • A bunch of jars I used for infusing vodka and brandy. I used them as recently as last year, but I can buy fruit infused alcohol now.
  • Shelves to a bookcase that fell apart.
  • Makeup case. I’ve had this for years. The entire time it has held jewelry that I’ve never worn.
  • The jewelry I’ve never worn.
  • Three bottles of bubbles. Out of everything I’m moving into declutter, these are the most likely to be taken back. Because my dog sometimes likes to chase bubbles.
  • Belt pouch. This was given to me by a friend because she no longer uses it and I have one in a different color. However this one is too small for me.
  • Arm warmers. I think they’re cashmere. Maybe angora. Again, an old style of mine.
  • A shoulder pouch. It matches the belt pouch I’m keeping, but I don’t like it.

There. Thirteen in one day. Now you may say “Val, it’s easy to get rid of stuff you don’t use!” To which I would reply “If it is so easy then why did I keep them for so many years?”