Overbooked

I have 17 shelves of books. Five bookcases in the living room, two in the spare bedroom, the five foot space beneath the aquarium and an ever-changing small stack of to-be-reads on the headboard of my bed. Many of my books are not kept upright because there is no room. So, they are stacked in the shelves on their sides. One could say I'm "overbooked".

Oops, almost forgot! I have old magazines I can't part with stacked in the living room and bathroom. Doesn't everybody? What will I do without them?

I think even if I partake of no other reading material than that which I already have, I wouldn't finish them all before it is time for me to leave this planet. Too bad I can't take them with me?

I recently read an article written by Robyn Devine, (Minimalist Knitter), entitled Breaking The Sentimental Attachment To Books. Since I was right in the middle of culling books, it really substantiated my commitment to let go.

Though I have to admit that, I am not willing enough to just toss them all immediately. Step by step, book by book they will leave my house and give me a LOT of free space. My friends will be shocked, but I also think thrilled, to accept my cast offs.

I love books, don't get me wrong. Ever since I climbed on my father's lap insisting he read me the newspaper simply because he was doing it without me, I have loved reading. Yes, after hearing Daddy read the editorial, even though I didn't understand; it was all up hill after that.

I can't even imagine how many books I have read since then, and I look forward to reading many more, but one at a time. There are few books I will cling to for sentimental reasons. I probably wont be keeping many reference books, either. Much of what I research can be found on the internet. Clearing my house of books is part of my plan to become minimalist.

I also have another reason to say goodbye to my books, and that is, allergies to house dust and mold, which are quite impossible to prevent where my books are concerned.

Yes, yes, I have cats, but one must choose one's poison, they say. I am quite sure I will never be a purist, but my intent is driven, and I am often thinking of other ways to divest myself of "Stuff".

But, first... the books!

What' in your Garage?

Coincidental to my decision to "come out of the closet" with my plan to become a Minimalist, an Oprah episode was shown on TV this week, a re-run about hoarders.

Thank heavens I'm not a hoarder. Really. I'm not. I can get through my doorway and walk from room to room without needing to move anything out of the way.

Choosing to hone down my belongings didn't just begin out of the blue. When the father of a friend died a few years back, I helped him clean out the three car garage which had accumulated an impressive floor to ceiling collection of "stuff" crammed in tight to the door. That was when I realized his father had been a hoarder by the true definition of the word. Maybe not on the scale of ten, like the woman on the Oprah show; but a hoarder, nonetheless. I knew the house had been badly cluttered, with some items stacked up behind the sofa, and the dining room table piled up with miscellaneous things. But I hadn't given much thought to it. I just considered it the result of the old man's inability to get around much in those last few years of poor health.

Our first inclination, when opening the garage door, was to call in a truck and have it all hauled away. But, we started poking around a bit, and opened boxes, some of them holding papers dated from fifty years before. We realized there were things of a personal value to family members. Military keepsakes, family photos and movies, rolls and rolls of undeveloped film! This would not be a simple matter of tossing things! It took us more than a month to clean it out.

It was a challenging job and revealed much about my friend's family life. He reminisced as we encountered his boxed up memories. We found bags of clothing from when the grandchildren were little, a cache of his mother's purses, some still containing make up. We discovered a complete set of antique imported china ware carefully wrapped in crumbling tissue paper that must have been worth a thousand dollars. We were mystified as we opened boxes tightly packed of carefully washed plastic margarine tubs and lids. It gave me pause to consider the extra plastic storage containers cluttering my bottom kitchen cupboard. Just thinking about that bothered me enough to make me reassess my own growing collection of goodies.

Since that time, I have made a conscious effort to not squirrel away a mountain of stuff in my garage. Unfortunately, it has often been a molehill.

On Becoming a Minimalist

Before I met my son's new girlfriend, he warned me, "Mom, she's a Minimalist. So, don't be trying to give her stuff." I had in mind a definition of Minimalist as art. I dabble in art, so I thought he didn't want me to offer her my art supplies. "Don't worry. I won't."

While getting acquainted I learned a bit of her childhood, her impressive education and her struggles to travel 2,000 miles to the west coast and settle in. As usual, I have an excessive amount  of "stuff". So I asked her if she needed some linens. No, she would use her sleeping bag. Then as I made tea and sandwiches I thought she might want some mugs. I was politely told, "No, thank you".

One thing I was painfully aware of was that this girl's poverty kept her dressed shabbily. I had some nice jeans left behind by my growing teen niece in the closet. Could she use them? She politely nodded and I enlisted my son to get them off the high shelf.

That is when he explained her definition of Minimalist. I couldn't grasp the concept that this young woman lived her life with two changes of clothing, slept on the floor in a sleeping bag and had a serving set for one in her little kitchen. And I just never got why she preferred to go barefoot all the time! To save her shoes?

It's been nearly a decade since my introduction to the concept. I've realized in many ways, I have been on a path leading me towards adopting the possibility of Minimalism. Most of my life has been one series of stripping belongings down to low levels, picking up, packing and moving, even as a youngster. As a new bride with a husband in the military, I moved a total of nine times in five years. I've had lots of experience preparing for this time in my life to tone down the overabundance of my "stuff".

And so my journey on becoming a Minimalist begins.

Wish me luck!