Clutterers are not bad people who stubbornly cling to their clutter.
Most clutterers just let stuff pile up around them. Usually it isn’t a
conscious choice: the ‘stuff’ just tends to settle in, and bit by bit it
takes over until we are surrounded and can’t find our way out of the
chaos it causes.
We can easily become overwhelmed and find ourselves drained of
the energy we need to deal with it. Going through it, sorting it and
deciding what to keep and what to do with the rest all seems too
much and, surprisingly, it can bring up all sorts of unexpected
emotions.
Some people panic at the thought of letting go of anything, fearful
that they may need it in the future, or may have to go without
because they won’t have the money to replace it. Deep down we
may believe we will never have enough of what we need to get by
or that we aren’t capable of adequately providing for ourselves.
Others find it difficult to make the myriad decisions required in
clearing ‘stuff’ out. Every piece of ‘stuff’ requires a decision, and
there are piles of ‘stuff’ everywhere. Not knowing where and how to
start can make us feel hemmed in and indecisive.
We can become afraid of making a mistake and getting it ‘wrong’.
We stand frozen to the spot, unable to choose; unsure of what we
really want or even what we like; unsure of whether we really need it
or if we are just holding onto it. We can feel tired before we even
start and lack the motivation to begin something that is so big and
such a seemingly impossible task.
Asking for help can be embarrassing and it is possible to feel that
you might be judged harshly if anyone else knows the extent of the
problem. We can feel we are being criticised, and also feel fearful
that we may not be able to find things or that we might lose
something important if we hand over the responsibility to someone
else.
We may be embarrassed to say what we really want because we
fear looking silly or selfish, so instead we lash out at the ‘helper’ and
feel bad about doing that too.
We can become so used to the clutter around us that we don’t
actually see it or react to it on a conscious level. But our mind and
bodies are taking it all in, feeling hemmed in and frustrated because
we can’t move round easily and because we can’t find the things we
need without spending hours searching, which leaves us feeling
even more frustrated and exhausted.
Sometimes we use clutter to fill up the gaps in our lives. Being
surrounded by things can make us feel substantial and visible in a
world we suspect doesn’t notice us at all. Our clutter can also be a
safe haven – a way to feel comfortable and secure, hedged off from
the world.
Clutter can become our companion, something familiar and
constant in our lives. Without it we may feel exposed and
vulnerable, afraid to let anyone into our ‘space’ because we fear
rejection once they see us as we really are. We may have to learn
all over again how to relate to people as who we really are and
become comfortable with doing that.
We can even equate having ‘stuff’ with feeling cared about and
being loved. Some of our things become our ‘friends’ and we feel
we are betraying them by letting them go. Our ‘stuff’ never criticises
us; it sticks by us and stays with us forever, so we can end up
fearing the loneliness that an ‘empty’, ‘sterile’ environment might
make us feel.
Another reason for cluttering is that we are rebelling, stating loud
and clear that ‘No-one can tell me what to do or how I should live’.
We stubbornly hang onto all the ‘stuff’; even when it has outlived its
usefulness, even when we have come to hate it, because we want
our own way and don’t want to ‘give in’.
Sometimes, there is a really simple explanation for why we have
allowed clutter to build up – we have just never learnt how to be
organised and deal with the flow of objects that comes through our
homes and have little interest in doing so.
Whatever the underlying reason, take heart: there are ways to
conquer the dreaded clutter mountain and really enjoy the space in
which we live.
© Copyright: Marian Kerr, Contemplate Life Coaching, 2008. All Rights Reserved
