How to Have a Bad Day Step 15: Hold on to Stuff

Ever walked into a room and immediately forgotten why you were there—because you got distracted by the pile of mail, a box of cords, and a stack of “someday” clothes? Yeah. Same. Just this morning I walked from my cluttered bedroom, down my cluttered hallway, through my cluttered kitchen, down stairs to, yep you guessed it, my cluttered office. "I need more room to put stuff" was what I caught myself thinking. But is that the answer?

Let’s talk clutter.

We don’t start out as hoarders. It creeps in. One junk drawer becomes two. A closet becomes a storage unit with a rod in it. Before long, we’re hanging onto broken toasters, expired coupons, and a purse full of pens that don’t work—just in case.

Why Do We Keep So Much Stuff?

Nostalgia: “But this is my son’s first macaroni art from 1997…” It’s sweet. But you’re not running a museum.

Guilt: “I paid money for this!” So now it costs you peace too?

Potential: “One day I might use this.” Sure. And one day I might need a fourth stapler.

Fear: “What if I need it again?” What if you don’t—and in the meantime, it’s taking up space in your brain and life.

The Mental Toll of Clutter

Studies have shown that clutter affects stress levels, sleep, and even your ability to focus. When your eyes scan a chaotic room, your brain has to work overtime to process all the visual noise. In essence, your stuff is yelling at you.

Why Letting Go is So Hard

Letting go feels like loss. Sometimes we don’t want to face the emotions attached to the stuff—grief, guilt, failure. So instead, we just… move the pile to another corner.

But the stuff won’t love you back. It won’t solve the problems it represents. And it certainly doesn’t make you holier, happier, or healthier.

How to Start Decluttering (Without Crying)

Pick a corner, not a room. One drawer. One surface. One shelf. That’s all.

Use the “Would I buy it again?” and "Have I worn or used this in the last 6 months?" test. If not, thank it for its service and let it go..

Keep what serves your present, not your past. You’re not the same person you were when you bought it. That’s okay.

Some of us shop because it’s emotional support. Others hoard because “someday” we might need that broken lamp or single shoelace. And that ugly side table we got at garage sale for ten bucks...5 years ago...that's getting refurnished...someday. In the meantime keep piling stuff on top of it and banging your leg on it. Maybe it's just our house, but alot of our clutter exists because we couldn’t find the thing we already owned... so we bought another one.

For the past couple of years, Dwaine and I have been tackling the pile of boxes that have followed us through over a dozen moves, cleaning out the sheds where "one day" items go to die, and asking the hard question, "Do we really need this? Is this serving us or are we serving it?"

Recently, we chomped down on a major Bullfrog (see Step 14) and tackled our book collection. (Yes, that sacred cow.) We ended up donating nearly 300 books. Do we still buy more? Of course—we’re not monsters. But there's only so much shelf room so when they start to overflow, they go.

One of our motivations to skimming down and organizing our stuff is to spare our children the cost of purchasing a semi sized dumpster to throw it all in to when we leave these bodies. I don't live in the delusion that any of our children need or even want all our stuff. And when that season comes? Do I really want to burden them with rooms of unmarked boxes and "someday stuff" to go through? No. Will they be interested in taking home a nicely labeled bin that says "Guitar Adapters", "Caleb Memories", and "Dwaine's Journals"? Probably. A box of random lids and empty DVD cases? Probably not.

Our System: Past, Present, Future

We’ve simplified our clutter strategy into three categories: Past, Present, and Future. Everything you own should fall into one of them—and they shouldn’t all be living in the same space.

Give every item a designated home. Label your bins and have appropriate shelving. Be ruthless. And here’s the key rule: Once a bin is full, that’s it. No adding “just one more” or starting a secret overflow stash, unless it's yarn of course ; ). If you want to add something new, something old has to go. Yes, it’s excruciating. But so is tripping over a pile of random office supplies on your way to find your juicer.

Here are some examples of what I'm talking about to help get you started:

Past: Sentimental memories, like photo albums or that shirt you wore to your first concert.

Present: Daily-use items like chargers, scissors, and whatever else is always mysteriously missing.

Future: Emergency candles, survival gear, and the backup instant coffee stash for when an EMP hits. (Check, check, aaaand check!)

Your past and future don’t need to be within arm’s reach. Assign a shelf, bin, corner, or small room to each category—and once it’s full, that’s the cap. No negotiation.

Somethings might be hard to categorize. I get it. I have a bin labeled “Cheryl's Skinny Clothes.” Not sure if that’s a past memory or a future prophecy, but it’s staying—for now.

Ok Mommas, Take a Breath

This blog is NOT about "life mess" so don't spiral. My house is spotless for about 2 hours a week. Pop by at any given time and you will find:

Dirty dishes (and no, they're not confined to the sink);

A mountain of laundry. Is it clean? Is it dirty? Do I really want to smell this?

Rogue socks and "what is that?" littering the floor from wall to wall;

Toys, sticks, dog toys, and legos forming a booby-trap path of pain;

Wet towels and bathing suits fermenting in some forgotten corner;

Random recycling objects in the process of becoming tanks, robots, and space stations;

And one of my (or Dwaine's) random half-finished projects that we'll get to later. Or not.

Get the picture? That’s not clutter. That’s the beautiful, chaotic evidence of a house full of actual life. Yes, all seven of us have daily chores to help keep the chaos at bay, but it has it's challenges. Teaching responsibility to small humans who feel personally victimized when asked to put their shoes away is an ongoing battle. But we don’t let it steal our peace. And we're no longer stressed at the thought of someone walking into it.

There’s a big difference between mess that comes from being blessed—and chaos that comes from clinging on to stuff in hopes it’ll fill a void or provide existential security.

"The One Who Dies with the Most Toys Wins" Really?

“No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.”

I don't think this verse is just about money, but about misplaced loyalty to material things. Maybe when you start asking, "why can't I let this thing go" you'll discover areas in your heart that God wants to heal.

Isaiah once said, “Their land is full of idols; they bow down to the work of their hands, to what their fingers have made.” (Isaiah 2:8)

Now, I get it—you’re probably not out back carving an Asherah pole next to your bird bath, but maybe this is just the ancient version of worshipping our curated clutter. Are we subconsciously trying to find meaning in dead stuff that just takes up space? Are we bound to the abundance of inanimate objects because it's connected to our identity and security? I don't know. Just a thought.

Final Thought

We don’t actually need more space — we need fewer excuses to keep what’s weighing us down. Sometimes “just in case” really means “just in the way.” Freedom doesn’t always come in a grand life change; sometimes it starts in the bottom of that dusty box filled with tangled phone cords from 2008.

So, just like the song says, “Let it Go”. That broken appliance, that sweater you’ll never wear, and that fondue set you got at Value Village 10 years ago and have never used. (Guilty on all three accounts!)

Toss it, donate it, bless someone else with it.

Your home will breathe easier. So will you. And yes — I promise — you’ll have a much better day if you do!