There is a myth that professional organizers don't struggle with clutter. This just isn't true. In my job, I see many people struggle parting with things they don't use. I remind them that throwing something away doesn't erase the memory or the sentiment attached to it. This is one of those things that's easier said than done and this past weekend, I got a taste of my own medicine.
My husband and I decided to reorganize our laundry room. It was a fairly big project: we condensed two cupboards into one and had to get rid of some things to make it work. We went through several boxes and were successfully getting rid of things when we happened on a box that held something you might not expect a professional organizer to have.
When I graduated from high school, I lived on a kibbutz in Israel, and my job was milking the cows. Somehow, when I returned to the States, a single cow on my bookshelf that my grandma gave me when I was little, combined with my recent job as a milkmaid, created the perfect storm for a collection that I never intended to start. My collection grew without much assistance. You know how it is when people see you that you have more than one of something: they decide you collect them and all of a sudden, Happy Birthday! Happy Anniversary! Happy Wednesday! And even though I didn't consciously set out to collect all things cow, I loved and cherished my collection. Many of the cows were special gifts-tangible items that reminded me of the people who gave them to me.
My husband and I used to live in a tiny apartment. In that apartment, much to my husband's chagrin, I displayed the cow collection with pride. Twelve years ago we moved from that tiny apartment to our current home. I agreed to leave the cows in boxes that we stored in the laundry room. Every so often, during an organizing frenzy, my husband would gently suggest parting with the cows. I was never ready. Until last weekend. For some reason something had changed. I was done.
I believe that each time I saw the cow collection, I moved closer to being able to say goodbye to it. Each time I opened those boxes, I thought of the advice I gave to my clients. This collection, that at one time meant so much to me, wasn't being honored. It was taking up needed space and was simply there because of my fear of giving up something that once was important to me. Finally, I was ready to say goodbye.
I sorted through the boxes, and one by one decided to donate the cows to charity. I thought of the people who gave them to me and realized that even though I may be getting rid of the mooing keychain, I still love the friend who gave it to me. I did keep one: the ceramic cow from my grandma. The rest are gone. And I feel good. My laundry room looks great. I have room to store things I actually use. And I've given others the opportunity to enjoy something that I wasn't benefiting from by leaving it hidden in a box.
If you ever struggle with the idea of inviting a professional organizer into your home because you think we're organizing machines who won't understand how you feel, remember my cow collection. Professional organizers aren't immune to the tug of the heartstrings that a long-forgotten treasure can pull. We can empathize with you while still helping you reclaim your space.
Happy organizing!
