Useful storage space has been an issue with me for a long time. I grew up in Europe and was fortunate to see some of the best uses of space ever. We lived in a couple of homes that were traditional English homes that would be considered fairly small by U.S. standards, but had incredibly efficient floor plans and cabinets.
Now that I have a made a decision to make a few MAJOR changes, I am faced with relearning all that I knew as a child. I have to think a bit outside of the box. Is there wasted space on that wall? How could I do things better?
I am about to shrink my lifestyle by around 700 square feet for a while.
I am not panicking.
I am not panicking.
Like most Americans, I have duplicates of several things for convenience. Yes, I have two machines that vacuum the air out of plastic bags for freezing foods. I have a bread machine. (How ridiculous.) I have three mixers. (Long story.) I have three DVD players from a time when I placed TV's in different rooms. I have since decided that one TV is more than enough and so is one DVD player... So two will go.
That list is embarrassingly long. Why do I have FIVE pizza pans? I kept buying one that was supposed to be "better". So obviously, I will never cook more than two pizzas at once, so three of those will go.
When I look at it like this, it seems that this downscaling will practically do itself. I am not panicked.
As I packed the first of a few million boxes, I am aware of just how much my life has changed from the military lifestyle.
Sigh.
I went through my entire china cabinet and lets just say that only about 10% of it will be staying with me. The rest were things... just things that had been accumulated.
Ugh. How did I become this person? Why on earth do I have so many sets of dishes? Yes... there is the china for 12, the regular dishes, the "I don't know when I thought I would be using etched crystal plates" section.
My cousin asked me if I had any extra mixing bowls.
Sigh.
Yes. I have several sets of those also. Blue, because at one time my kitchen was blue; stainless, because I wanted to look like a professional chef when I was ruining food; clear glass because they were guaranteed not to break....and there are others....
Yes, we have so much in this country. How many times have I redecorated my kitchen in a manner that necessitated me purchasing new dishes or pans because the colors were no longer right?
I am ashamed and empowered at the same time.
I am disgusted by my own waste and misuse. I am appalled that while children on this planet do not have shoes, food or medicine, I have so little regard that I have several sets of dishes to make things "prettier".
I feel empowered because I can learn. I can rid myself of all of the extras. I can take pride in knowing what is really important to me.
I have so far been able to make decisions quickly. I can clearly see what I will need and what must go.
I will not be burdened by things.
Things and colors do not own me.
I feel stronger with each sealed box.
I can do this.
As I packed the first of a few million boxes, I am aware of just how much my life has changed from the military lifestyle.
Sigh.
I went through my entire china cabinet and lets just say that only about 10% of it will be staying with me. The rest were things... just things that had been accumulated.
Ugh. How did I become this person? Why on earth do I have so many sets of dishes? Yes... there is the china for 12, the regular dishes, the "I don't know when I thought I would be using etched crystal plates" section.
My cousin asked me if I had any extra mixing bowls.
Sigh.
Yes. I have several sets of those also. Blue, because at one time my kitchen was blue; stainless, because I wanted to look like a professional chef when I was ruining food; clear glass because they were guaranteed not to break....and there are others....
Yes, we have so much in this country. How many times have I redecorated my kitchen in a manner that necessitated me purchasing new dishes or pans because the colors were no longer right?
I am ashamed and empowered at the same time.
I am disgusted by my own waste and misuse. I am appalled that while children on this planet do not have shoes, food or medicine, I have so little regard that I have several sets of dishes to make things "prettier".
I feel empowered because I can learn. I can rid myself of all of the extras. I can take pride in knowing what is really important to me.
I have so far been able to make decisions quickly. I can clearly see what I will need and what must go.
I will not be burdened by things.
Things and colors do not own me.
I feel stronger with each sealed box.
I can do this.
As I do this I am already envisioning where these new boxes will need to go. Which room? Label the box.
As I am taping the box and collecting things for the next box, I am thinking of paint colors for each room. I am thinking of which linens will be best. I am thinking of which dishes will be best.
As I am stacking boxes, I am already aware that somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind, I am already imagining things that I have seen that will go nicely with my plans. Those dark corners are already plotting to purchase things. Things that will not matter in ten years.
It is who I am. I am torn between being a minimalist and trying new things. I always have been. When I remember my childhood, we moved the least items possible. We had a weight allowance and we were NEVER over. Not many military families can say that.
Still, even though I would get new sheets, new towels, new toys and new books in the new house, there was always one box that travelled with me. I remember exactly what was in that box each time. It was very specific. I felt that box was a part of me each time.
I own exactly one thing from that box.
I got over it. No matter where I lived, I was me. I learned new things, made new friends, used different currency, but I was still me.
My friend has asked me what the house "says" to me. "Does it feel like home?"
I have lived in a lot of homes in my lifetime. I have viewed even more. None of them have "spoken" to me.
Perhaps that is who I am.
I don't wait for a house to speak to me. I take what I have and make it mine.
Having said that, I am very aware that there have been two homes in my life that I truly still love. Houses are just things, but occasionally, we can attach ourselves to things...
One of these houses was a wonderful farmhouse in England. I could prattle on endlessly about the magical nature of this home as an 8 year old child would see it. It was magnificent. Fairy tales should have been written about this home. Ahhh.. It makes me smile just thinking about it.
The second house... the second house has the most perfect floor plan, the most perfect amount of land. The second house is a perfect home for babies, older children, adults and the elderly. All will find comfort in this home.
The second house is my grandparent's house.
My grandparent's house is not just a thing. My grandparent's house is a home. My grandparent's house is as close as I will ever get to understanding things that my friends say. My friends who have lived in the same neighborhood, city or even country their entire lives have attachments that I cannot fathom.
I have so many memories in that house from my entire life. I have learned so much from helping with things in that house.
Maybe someday, I will truly understand what my friends say when they talk about their house being their "home" forever. Maybe someday, my heart would ache at the thought of packing up and moving.
I do dream that someday, I will be able to be "grandmother's house" to some small people who will look at me the way I look at my grandmother. Maybe someday, those small people will want to hold my hands the way I love to hold my grandmother's hands.
For now, I am getting rid of as many "things" as I can to do just that. I am going to spend my time holding my grandmother's hands rather than shopping for a new color or a new pattern, or a new fabric.
For now, I will keep condensing my life into boxes, sorted into stacks of "KEEP" and "GO". I will continue to judge myself for having so much and then pat myself on the back for being such a good sport about downsizing.
I will also continue to look for wasted items, wasted space and wasted time. I will continue to reevaluate my own choices and they things my choices teach my children.
I could not have asked for a better teaching experience with my children. Maybe they will or will not incorporate it into their own lives, but they will know that I was able to make the choices. They will know what my choices are. They know why I am doing this and they are not simply whining about how it will affect them.
Life is all about our choices. As long as I am breathing on this earth, I will still be making choices. I might as well be comfortable with the choices I am making and get rid of a few more things that will only get in my way.
As I am taping the box and collecting things for the next box, I am thinking of paint colors for each room. I am thinking of which linens will be best. I am thinking of which dishes will be best.
As I am stacking boxes, I am already aware that somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind, I am already imagining things that I have seen that will go nicely with my plans. Those dark corners are already plotting to purchase things. Things that will not matter in ten years.
It is who I am. I am torn between being a minimalist and trying new things. I always have been. When I remember my childhood, we moved the least items possible. We had a weight allowance and we were NEVER over. Not many military families can say that.
Still, even though I would get new sheets, new towels, new toys and new books in the new house, there was always one box that travelled with me. I remember exactly what was in that box each time. It was very specific. I felt that box was a part of me each time.
I own exactly one thing from that box.
I got over it. No matter where I lived, I was me. I learned new things, made new friends, used different currency, but I was still me.
My friend has asked me what the house "says" to me. "Does it feel like home?"
I have lived in a lot of homes in my lifetime. I have viewed even more. None of them have "spoken" to me.
Perhaps that is who I am.
I don't wait for a house to speak to me. I take what I have and make it mine.
Having said that, I am very aware that there have been two homes in my life that I truly still love. Houses are just things, but occasionally, we can attach ourselves to things...
One of these houses was a wonderful farmhouse in England. I could prattle on endlessly about the magical nature of this home as an 8 year old child would see it. It was magnificent. Fairy tales should have been written about this home. Ahhh.. It makes me smile just thinking about it.
The second house... the second house has the most perfect floor plan, the most perfect amount of land. The second house is a perfect home for babies, older children, adults and the elderly. All will find comfort in this home.
The second house is my grandparent's house.
My grandparent's house is not just a thing. My grandparent's house is a home. My grandparent's house is as close as I will ever get to understanding things that my friends say. My friends who have lived in the same neighborhood, city or even country their entire lives have attachments that I cannot fathom.
I have so many memories in that house from my entire life. I have learned so much from helping with things in that house.
Maybe someday, I will truly understand what my friends say when they talk about their house being their "home" forever. Maybe someday, my heart would ache at the thought of packing up and moving.
I do dream that someday, I will be able to be "grandmother's house" to some small people who will look at me the way I look at my grandmother. Maybe someday, those small people will want to hold my hands the way I love to hold my grandmother's hands.
For now, I am getting rid of as many "things" as I can to do just that. I am going to spend my time holding my grandmother's hands rather than shopping for a new color or a new pattern, or a new fabric.
For now, I will keep condensing my life into boxes, sorted into stacks of "KEEP" and "GO". I will continue to judge myself for having so much and then pat myself on the back for being such a good sport about downsizing.
I will also continue to look for wasted items, wasted space and wasted time. I will continue to reevaluate my own choices and they things my choices teach my children.
I could not have asked for a better teaching experience with my children. Maybe they will or will not incorporate it into their own lives, but they will know that I was able to make the choices. They will know what my choices are. They know why I am doing this and they are not simply whining about how it will affect them.
Life is all about our choices. As long as I am breathing on this earth, I will still be making choices. I might as well be comfortable with the choices I am making and get rid of a few more things that will only get in my way.
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