I don’t know about you, but I feel better when my home is tidy. Or at least tidy, to my standards. And let me just point out that there are people in my life who have way higher standards than myself. But, that’s another story. I find happiness inside when my outside world is a little more pulled together. My husband Steve however, does not have the same compulsion for order as I. And this, for more than a decade has been a bone of contention between the two of us.
In my mind it’s a simply a matter of what you know. My husband comes from a family of hoarders. They certainly wouldn’t make the tv show or anything, but his family likes to keep stuff. A lot of it. My husband has this same desire for stuff. I, on the hand am a chucker. I have very few items of sentimental attachment (although since having children these items have grown in number). I am happy to toss stuff I haven’t used in six months. I feel good passing stuff along to others who might need it. I never ask myself, “might I use this in the next decade”? My home library collection and a lot of our movies have been donated to our local library. I figure they can store it better than I can and checking out books is free with my membership. I have a bag of too small-clothes always on the go for friends with younger daughters than my own. It’s just what I know.
Blending my husbands need to keep and my need to chuck often causes stress and trauma for us both. He feels the need to hang onto empty glass gars just in case he has screws and nuts and bolts to fill it one day. He likes to keep dowels of varying size just in case we make a kite instead of buying one. And don’t even get me started on how many rolls of mostly finished Christmas wrapping paper we have stored under our bed!
Over the course of our 13 years together I have whittled my husband down to a couple of rubber made storage bins. Whatever is most precious to him he can keep, as long as they fit in the bins. I don’t have any more stuff myself though. Together we have stuff he won’t let me toss. A broken bike he plans on fixing. Roller blades that have needed new stoppers for 13+ years that he will definitely fix one of these days (did I mention we live in a village with gravel roads?). And mostly I am okay with it. I do worry a bit though when I conclude that I will NEVER be able to park my car in my garage.
Today was our last day of holidays from Christmas. Today was our last day to sit around and continue our sloth-like behaviour. Instead we cleaned. We argued. We hid items of importance from each other. Me to toss, Steve to keep. It was a long day. It was a victory for me today though. I amassed three bags of garbage and two of donations. I think Steve would consider today a win too. He has a clean jar with a lid on his nightstand (that he will forget about in a week and I will toss) and a wooden dowel in the closet (which he will forget about in two weeks and I will toss) for future kite making.
My outer life is clean and my inner happiness is buzzing. I am sure Steve would have rather had a root canal today than help me de-clutter our lives, but he was a trooper. I couldn’t have gotten it all done without him. Not everyone finds their happiness like I do. And again, I remind you, I know people who laugh at what I consider ‘clean’. But perception is reality right?
