Day Two Hundred and One

Today I am 20% of the way into this project, and I had a thought that made me pause for a moment.

What would my home look like if my only possessions were things I truly needed or truly wanted?

This means there would be nothing in my house that was grown-out-of, broken and probably not fixable, or an unnecessary duplicate.

Goodbye to all the clothes that might (but probably won't) be fashionable again some day.

Goodbye to all the tapes I haven't listened to in ten years and won't buy on CD.

Speaking of which, goodbye to all the CDs I only keep because I feel I should like that music (but I really don't).

And goodbye to all the clothes that have a weird neckline, don't look the way I thought they would with those pants, need alterations I can't give them, turned out to be the wrong shade of blue, make my butt look big, or which (let's be honest here) I will never get aforementioned butt back into even if I diet and exercise religiously for the next five years.

Goodbye to all the half-burned candles that smelled funny.

Goodbye to the books I will never read again, and to all the ones I might read once but could check out from the library.

Goodbye to all the paperwork that has served its purpose and now just hogs space.

Goodbye and good riddance to all of the bottles of scented hand lotion and body wash that I never really liked, but still kept so I could use them rather than waste them. Because when I stop and think about it, is it really so much better to spend months (or years) rubbing them into my skin rather than pouring them into the garbage, recycling the containers, and having the drawer space back? My mom said once, "Life's too short to use bad soap." She's right.

Goodbye to all the clothes that need mending - if I mend them, they can GO AWAY.

Goodbye to all the papers that need sorting - if I sort them, they can GO AWAY.

Goodbye to all the baby equipment that needs cleaning - if I clean them, they can GO AWAY.

Goodbye to all the magazines I'll never read, the weird canned food I'll never eat, the movies I'll never watch, the serving dishes I'll never use, and the puzzles with pictures that I never liked in the first place and certainly wouldn't like if I had to stare at them for a week while I worked them.

Goodbye to everything I keep because somebody gave it to me and I wouldn't want to make them feel bad, even though they've never been to my house and probably forgot that they gave it to me at all. Throwing out the odd-looking heart-shaped pin my piano student gave me does not, in fact, mean that I am throwing out my student.

Goodbye to everything I keep because it might be useful some day. If I haven't used it in the last ten years, I'd rather buy a new one if I need it.

Goodbye to everything I keep that would cost an unreasonable amount of time, money, or energy to use.

Goodbye to everything that lives rent-free in my house because of my laziness, guilt, or greed.


I bet if I did that, I'd have more room for my teacups.