For the last few months, I’ve written a lot about the stuff that is leaving my home, why, and where it is going.
Over that same time period, I’ve noticed a trend occurring. Anytime one of my friends invites me over (okay, anytime I invite myself over to a friend’s house), they preface the invitation with an explanation of how messy their home is. I think some of you might be envisioning my recently de-cluttered space as a lot more pristine than it actually is, so today I want to clear the air about a couple of things.
1. My house gets messy too.
Seriously messy. Every single day. This house is lived in. We learn, play, eat, sleep and dream in this house, and that means that on any given day, we use a lot of stuff. It’s also not a big house, which means that we do all of those things in the same, multi-purpose area. In addition, we have a dog whose favorite pastime is taking our dirty clothes or smelly shoes and decorating our furniture and backyard with them. One of our children still insists that he likes his room better messy, and I’m not fighting that battle (except on Fridays…I fight it a little on Fridays). We also have a small obsession with our public library that leads to random piles of books on all surfaces of the house. Just last night, Jason was clearing our table after dinner when he looked over at me and declared, “We’re weird.”
“What do you mean, we’re weird?” I asked, taking the bait.
He proceeded to show me the assortment of items he was cleaning off of our table: several library books, a sign up sheet for a Yu-Gi-Oh tournament one of our boys created (complete with “official” member ID numbers), a jar of fake money, the latest iteration of a chore chart, three rocks absconded from a local creek bed, a postcard from a family in New Mexico that we don’t actually know, and a tiny banjo in a tiny banjo case. And we had eaten dinner at that table without paying a bit of attention to any of those items.
So friends, please don’t feel like you have to prepare me for the level of mess in your home. Even if my home were truly minimalist and perfectly swiffered (which it’s not), you still would not owe me any explanation or apology for your home. I love my friends for who they are, not how they keep house, or what they keep in their house.
Which brings me to the second thing I need to tell you.
2. We still have stuff. And a lot of it is… um… interesting.
Meet Grover Cleveland. Grover is our indoor garden gnome who recently became unemployed when he failed to manage his only task of keeping the succulents in our master bedroom alive. Grover has been lonely and a bit despondent since he lost his job, so we decided to find him a new hobby. Enter the tiny aforementioned tiny banjo. We realize we could have just purchased him a new indoor plant to care for, but frankly, we’re not sure Grover is up to the task.
Sure, we may use poor Grover as an excuse for our own inability to keep our houseplants alive, but the truth is, Grover’s unlikely presence in our master bedroom brings us joy. It’s illogical joy, but joy all the same, so he stays. I’ve said before that joy is subjective, and Grover Cleveland certainly illustrates that point. I’m sure there are plenty of you thinking that a garden gnome in a master bedroom is the first thing that you’d get rid of, and that’s okay. I’m not about to tell you what should bring you joy.
Grover is not the only thing that made the cut.
This, my friends, is a mantle fish. You put this fish on your mantle and it keeps evil spirits away. You probably want to know how you can get your hands on one of these. Lucky for me, my husband makes them, but in very limited editions. I know. Back off ladies, he’s taken.
There’s more. We kept all of our musical instruments, piles of art supplies, a whole lot of Legos, two shelves worth of board games, an assortment of costumes for dress-up play, more hats than one family needs and a broken lawn mower. We’ve still got some work to do, but for me, de-cluttering is not intended to be the end, but a means to an end. For me, that end looks like creating a space that amplifies the values and interests and purposes of the members of my family. At the end of the day, I’m not hoping to arrive at a truly minimal house without any possessions, but rather a house that is a place to grow and learn, to live and love, a house in which our possessions don’t possess us, a house that isn’t always clean, but when we do pick up the stuff, that stuff brings a smile to our face. A house where friends and family are welcome to just drop in, even if I didn’t sweep that day or put away the rock collection. A house in which a quiet little gnome like Grover Cleveland can be both a gardener and a renowned banjo player. In other words, a home.
So there you have it. My home still gets messy, and it still holds some truly random stuff. But moreover, I want you to know that I’m not comparing my home to yours. This de-cluttering journey is really just an outward expression of my own set of issues, which I pour out on the internet mostly for your entertainment. So friends, here’s my proposition: no more apologizing for our homes. I won’t apologize for Grover Cleveland or the bra you just sat on (thanks Hobbes) and you don’t apologize for the dishes or the dog hair. Instead, we’ll just pour a cup of coffee (or open a beer, your choice) and enjoy each other’s company, which is really what matters most.