About a week ago, as I sat in my friend’s home while she painted my nails (in preparation for promo videos for the book), I remembered she was getting new furniture soon.
I spied a comfy chair in the corner and asked what she was going to do with it. She was keeping that particular chair, but asked me why I wanted to know.
So I told her my sad story of decluttering regret. The living-out of my greatest decluttering fear. The tale of the time when I kindof wish I had paid attention to that mostly-squashed-but-still-there voice in my head that asked, “But . . . what if I need it again someday?”
My sad, sad decluttering story:
There once was a chair. A big, comfy chair. A chair that was part of my very first set of grown-up, never-before-owned-by-someone-else furniture.
I loved that chair. I sat in that chair. I piled things on that chair.
But I also moved that chair.
I moved it once, and then I moved it again. I moved it here and there and seemingly everywhere.
When it no longer had a place in my living room, I considered putting it in the gameroom, but it was too big.
One day, after bumping into it for the seventy-bajillionth time, I thought to myself, “I know! I’ll move it to my bedroom!” I cleared the perfect spot for it next to my side of the bed. I envisioned myself sitting in this chair to read, working in this chair on a summer’s day.
Unfortunately, the placement was also convenient for other, less warm-and-fuzzy things. I couldn’t sit down to read because the chair was always always inaccessible under the piles of clothes and other set-it-down-just-for-now stuff.
So I finally decided to get rid of the chair.
Decided, but didn’t. I removed it from the spot by the bed, but didn’t actually get it out of the house right away. Instead, I moved it into that “lovely” open space in my master bedroom.
Which meant the open space wasn’t open anymore.
This was only temporary, but the temporariness lasted much longer than I expected.
I assumed I would get it right out as soon as I had a little lifting help. But the chair was soon covered in my husband’s clothes and other lovely randomness, so my Slob Vision kicked in and I never rarely thought about it again.
I only thought of it when I stubbed my toe in the middle of the night.
Because it was in the middle of the master bedroom floor.
So, when a local friend who is a teacher asked if anyone had a big, comfy chair for reading that she could have for her classroom, I immediately responded.
“I have the perfect chair, and you can have it for free!”
She and her husband came to the house, loaded it up, and hauled it off. I was so pleased with myself and loved my mostly-cleared space.
And then, about a month later, I started thinking.
Thinking about my dining room. And about the advice I’ve heard (from some of you) that the best way to keep the dining room table from continually being a dumping ground might be to assign a different purpose to that room.
And I started thinking how nice it would be to take the leaves out of the table (to make it smaller), move it to one end of the room, decorate it nicely, and create a reading nook with the remaining space in the room.
A reading nook.
Oh, how nice that sounds, right? I just need a big, comfy chair.
Just like the one I gave away a few months ago.
Ugh. I felt the familiar pangs of regret, kicked myself for not having thought of every possible use for that chair before I gave it up, dreaded looking for another one and wondered how much another comfy chair might cost.
And that’s why I asked if my friend was getting rid of hers. I told her my sad, regret-filled Chair Story, and she said, “Yeah, that happens to me all the time.”
And she kept on painting my nails.
Like my heart-wrenching story of Decluttering Regret was no big deal.
Maybe it’s important for you to understand that this friend’s home is beautiful, uncluttered, and never, ever out of control.
It’s the kind of house that makes people like me wonder, “How do some people keep their homes so nice and uncluttered all the time?”
Her casual statement sums up exactly how she does it. “Yeah, that happens to me all the time.”
Regret happens. Decluttering regret happens. And life goes on.
To take a quote from my own book, “People whose homes are always clutter-free prefer living with regret over living with clutter.”
Even though I could totally use that chair now, I’m so glad I got rid of it. That chair being gone freed up a large amount of floor space in my master bedroom and my toes are better off. The open-space-months I experienced between getting rid of the chair and thinking of another perfect use for it are more valuable to me than the price of a new-to-me chair that I’ll have fun searching for at a garage sale.
And I’ve seen that chair in its new home. It looks happy there.
NOTE: My book is now available! In it are my hard-learned mindset changes and decluttering strategies and habit-creating-practices to help you get your home under control. Go here to find out more about it.
--Nony
wilma says
i’ll sum it up using a phrase from another genre: it’s the cost of doing business.
it doesn’t happen often–and in the meantime, that chair is being put to good use. another will come along, if needed, when the time is right.
good luck!
Melinda Mitchell says
The fear of that regret held me hostage for so many years! No more!! All my books that I gave away 2 years ago?? I haven’t cried over them 1 single time!!
Shaewc says
I have just found your website, purchased two of your ebooks, and will order your new book. My home is the KING of clutter! It feels like an never ending battle! I also have a sewing business from home and the just ADDS to it…I live in constant fear of someone “just dropping by”…about twice a year I have my house spotless for an occasion…but it never lasts. Here’s to hoping your method clicks with my family!
Jen says
I am so thankful for your site!! I just recently found you, and honestly it makes me a little emotional to have finally found someone who understands how I think – but I can tell you really do know exactly how it is! My brain has ‘slobby thought processes’ too, and I’ve never quite managed to overcome them, and no one I know seems to really get it. I’ve really been trying here lately, but it’s so hard to follow the advise of people who don’t understand how my brain thinks ? You are helping me and I appreciate it so much! I’m impressed that your have (and are still working on it) figured out how to teach your slob brain to manage your house! I’m looking forward to your book – Do you know where I can pre-order an audio-version? Thanks!!
gyrfalcon says
This post has me thinking about the part about defining, or redefining, the purpose of a room. I have one room in my house that I call “the cloth room”, because my ironing board is there and I was going to do sewing projects there.
Well, my sewing machine has been broken for several years, and your post lets me see it’s time to let go of the unfulfilled idea of whipping up cute and elegant clothes for me. Time to clear out what is now clutter.
It seems ridiculous to have an entire room for just an ironing board (especially since I hardly ever iron). So now I get to have a fun time envisioning what I now want the room to be. Fun!
Cori says
I “thought” I had decluttering regret a few months ago when looking for a rarely used kitchen gadget. It was so rarely used that I decided not to purchase a new one.
Then I found it when emptying my cabinets for a kitchen remodel. Yeah! I put it where I would look for it and it is now used almost every week.
The discovery also prompted me to donate many items removed from my cabinets with dust on them! How long does an item have to be unused to collect dust inside a closed cabinet???
I still have a long way to go, but I have come so far. Yeah!
h says
Next to John 3:16 and the rest of Scripture, this is possibly the best thing I’ve ever read.
Ive done a lot of big purges, and “regret is better than clutter” has been my general philosophy since about 2004, but it’s different to hear a good pithy story, from someone who I know shares my frugal values, that sums up this philosophy.
Esp since, starting in about 2009, I had to start helping immediate family members make up their minds that regret is better than clutter (so I don’t have to clean their clutter, or figure out how to afford others to organize and clean their clutter).
I enjoyed a few nice cathartic sobs over the chair being happy in it’s new home. I’m sure you know, some of those kids that have sat in it probably don’t have quiet reading books at home. I’m so glad you were part of creating one for them.
Deborah says
This is utterly brilliant! I read it a few days ago and keep thinking about it.
I have so much stuff which I’m afraid to part with, and so many regrets about things I’ve disposed of in the past. But why?
As a result my house is full of boxes and boxes of stuff which I never do anything with.
By expecting to have regrets, but recognising in advance that it’s a price worth paying in order to have a house that’s a pleasure to live in, I hope I can liberate myself to get rid of more, even though I expect to regret some of the disposal decisions.
Time will tell, but thank you!
Dawn says
I am living in a bit of “regret” right now. My computer crashed. No, I did not regularly back up all my files. I had some things backed up (back in February, not in July before the crash). I had some things in Evernote or Dropbox. But, what I didn’t have anywhere is gone. Some of the items, I am upset about — pictures, recipes, some notes from seminars and such. Then, I think, well, if I can remember the photos I miss, then I still kind of have them and if I cannot remember them, then why did I have them? The recipes, I had some saved on All Recipes and Spark People, so okay (but Spark People changed in August, are they still there?) but most of the recipes came from the net anyway and I can find them again (at least the ones I want to cook). So, all this long note to say, that while I have regrets, I also have found some freedom in the accidental decluttering. If it was really important to me, I can name it and there were only a few things that I can recall and say “I miss that”.
Geena says
Thank you for this post. I really needed it. Fear of regret has kept me from getting rid of a LOT of things. I just need to “get over it” and get on with the job.
I have gotten rid of a couple of things that I later realized could have gone to a better place. I need to quit fretting over that, too.