Outer Order Inner Calm

Outer Order Inner Calm

Adult nonfiction
One of my pet peeves in the world of literature (which would a
peeve in my tv watching life if I actually had one) is the fetish on
decluttering which people approach with religious fervor. Minimalism
is the end all and be all. Rooms are to look like stage sets rather
than places people actually live. By removing the excess stuff from
our lives we will reach nirvana, achieve new heights personally and
professionally, lose those extra forty pounds, win the Nobel Peace
Prize...
You might have guessed I'm a skeptic. If my partner and I can
find what we need when we need it, if there are no health and safety
issues, if there are clean clothes to change into...it's all good.
Right now the living room sports a thicket of fishing rods set where
no one will trip over them. And my studio, with its musical snow
globes and legions of stuffed animals--my favorite spot in the house--
would be a minimalist's nightmare.
Although that subgenre is one I avoid, it occurred to me that I
might do my readers a favor by finding a less one-size-fits all
member. I found it in Gretchen Rubin's Outer Order Inner Calm.
Rubin hooked me when she advised readers not to organize just
for the purpose of organizing (or for fear of judgement). People have
different organizational needs: "Declaring that we'd all be happier
with less (or with more) is like every movie should be 120 minutes
long. Every movie has a right length, and people differ in the number
of possessions with which they can meaningfully engage."
I also really like Rubin's division of material into five
sections. The first involves making choices, sorting the valuable
from the meh. Practical suggestions are blended with reminders that
one person's meh is another person's treasure. The second is all
about creating order out of the keeper stuff. The third part, my
favorite, stresses the importance of understanding yourself and the
people with whom you share space. This is crucial when you have
widely differing needs for organization. The fourth part is about
cultivating useful habits to maintain your Eden once you've achieved
it. The fifth is about adding beauty.
For me, organizations are routine for spring and autumn. As the
kids grew up it was a matter of what they no longer needed. Two
adults, three children, and a cat in a trailer was quite the
challenge, especially before I had a shed for stuff like Christmas
ornaments and off season clothes and equipment. I'd set up a free
pile for people in the neighborhood. In between I have a plastic bag
for stuff I realize we can do without.
When the girls moved out of the room they'd grown up in there
was still a lot of nonfurniture stuff in it which began to attract
other stuff. It became the junk drawer's cousin on steroids.
Fortunately I realized that it could become my writers' studio. I
started right in sorting and organizing. I even lugged out the huge
falling apart recliner and swapped the bigger bureau for a couple of
small ones in better condition. I found the perfect bed side bookcase
in someone's free pile. I was able to set up and adorn my artificial
Christmas tree year round. Finally I had a beautiful place for
writing, reading, and crafting. Joey had his cat patio (his cat bed
on a coffee table in front of a window. And the bed made it possible
to sleep with an open window on especially muggy nights.
One thing we need to realize, however, is that the decluttering
perspective with its assumption that overabundance is always the
problem is a highly privileged one. For Stephanie Land (recall we
just met her in Maid) and so many others life is a struggle to acquire
enough. You work in pain if even over the counter meds are too
pricey. You watch your child eat if there's only enough for one.
Even for people with irregular hours some of the advice would
not make sense. Overbuying when you can is good strategy. My
partner's stocking up on nonperishables for the winter with heating
oil would be required was well respected. That object that might come
in handy could be what jump starts a vehicle you can't afford to have
professionally fixed. And that gift without a definite
recipient...OMG, your mom's birthday is next week!!!
The biggest change in my attitude came with my student on campus
job. Every hour I worked reaped $10 (now $11) minus tax. I was able
to not only pay part time tuition, fees, and books, but have money
left over for stuff like vetinary care for Joey. Now I can shed
surplus, knowing if I run out I can make a Goodwill run.
So read the book and employ any suggestions you find useful.
Just remember it's not something Moses picked up on the top of Mt.
Sianai. And don't let your relative privilege blind you to the people
for whom replacing a child's outgrown sneakers, rather than
decluttering her room, is the big challenge.
On a personal note, ironically, as I write this, I'm on the biggest
organizing project of my life. It's a tribute to how awesome my
studio is. The kids have decided Adam's old room should become
Eugene's man cave. After I've cleaned it out and Adam has taken what
he still wants they're going to out in some exercise stuff. There are
shelves for stuff like tools. (No tv though. It's next door to the
studio.) In addition to that I'm reorganizing my shed. I want to use
a couple of the smaller bookcases in there so I have to make space for
them.
A great big shout out goes out to Joey cat who is watching the world
go by from his cat patio. That is actually wonderful progress. He's
taking an interest, once again, in the world around him.
jules hathaway



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