There is something about moving to a new place that makes me simultaneously think I have too many things and that I need the perfect thing to make life easier. In this case I am massively downsizing to what is effectively a 275 sq.ft. tiny house, which means I do indeed have too much stuff for the space.
In the process of combining two households we’ve gotten rid of redundancies (how did we end up with three whisks between us?) and let some things go in favor of the one we like better. But I still feel like we’re drowning in stuff. My stuff to be exact.
In our new home, I have two dresser drawers and half (okay… maybe three quarters) of a closet smaller than most people’s hall/coat closets. I have a relatively small wardrobe, and yet nearly half of my clothes don’t fit.
My first instinct is to panic. To try to get rid of everything, even if it feels like I’m already down to the things I love.
Instead I’m just letting it all sit. My homeless clothes are sitting in a laundry basket in the closet, which means actual dirty clothes storage is also in a temporary home. We have a box of things in “purgatory” waiting to either be found a home or done without. Our “donate” pile is slowly taking over all of the space, and our “to-sell” pile keeps growing.
There’s too much stuff in this tiny place and not enough room for us.
But until we have things 95 percent sorted, nothing new. No life changing storage solutions. No new set of sheets to replace the dingy pair with holes. We have discovered so many better solutions than the one we had planned to purchase.
Home isn’t built in a day.
My plant friends have found a slightly sunny window sill to call home. We (miraculously) discovered a shoe storage solution appropriate for two athletic people’s numerous pairs.
Things are slowly making their way into their rightful place, and in the meantime I’m trying to just let it all be. Let the boxes fill the living room. Let the donation pile take up more space. Fill the purgatory box and let it stew.