People often assume that because I do what I do – helping people downsize, declutter and let go – I must be against owning things. I’m really not. I love a beautiful piece of furniture. I understand the comfort of surrounding yourself with things that matter to you. I have things I treasure. The issue I see – day in, day out, in the homes I work in – isn’t that people have possessions. It’s that so many of those possessions are just there. Not used. Not loved. Not even noticed.
There is a meaningful difference between a possession that has a purpose – even if that purpose is simply to make you smile when you look at it – and one that is taking up space out of inertia. The first is a joy. The second is quietly weighing you down.
Think about your kitchen cupboards. How many gadgets are in there that you haven’t touched since you unwrapped them? The bread maker; the fondue set; the juicer. These things weren’t mistakes – they were bought with enthusiasm and good intentions. But if they haven’t been used in two years (honestly – two years), it is worth asking whether they are genuinely part of your life, or simply part of your storage.
The same goes for clothes, books, crockery, craft supplies, garden tools. The question isn’t “do I need this?” – it’s “does this belong in my life now?”
And then there is: “I might need it one day.” I hear this a lot.
Sometimes that’s absolutely true. A spare set of keys, a good torch, sensible warm clothing – of course. But the pasta machine you bought in 2019? The 14 glass vases from various occasions? The spare curtains for the house you no longer live in?
“Just in case” can be a kindly way of avoiding a decision. And that’s human – I understand it completely. But those unmade decisions have a cost. They take up physical space, yes, but they also take up mental space. There is a quiet draining feeling that comes from living among things you haven’t properly decided about.
I am not saying everything must be used regularly to earn its place. Some things are kept with purpose and that is entirely valid.
Your grandmother’s tea service that you never use but display because there’s a special connection. The box of letters from someone you loved. The painting that has hung in your hallway for thirty years and still makes you feel something. These things have purpose. Their purpose is memory, identity, comfort, love. That is more than enough.
The question to ask of every object is: why is this here? If you can answer that – even if the answer is simply “because it makes me happy” – then it earns its place. If you can’t answer it at all, that’s worth paying attention to.
If you’d like some help thinking through your home and what’s truly working for you – we’re always happy to have that conversation.