Our world is loud with judgment about things.
Don’t clutter your space. Downsize your possessions. Give, donate, share. Clean lines and minimalist style. Empty the closets. Free yourself.
Recently, I have had two conversations that have given me pause about why I have so many seemingly worthless things.
My gavel – from serving as Honored Queen and Supreme Bethel Honored Queen and used by my mom as Guardian and Grand Guardian in Job’s Daughters. It has a story that was narrated by my grandfather when he made it for me. And that creepy little angel – that was Gram’s first Christmas tree angel. It has lights. It works. I don’t light it because the wiring is very old, but I keep it intact because it is a connection to Gram.
The first was a conversation about the gavel (pictured here) that my grandfather made and both my mom and I used. It was stolen out of a friend’s car, and I really don’t think he understands the emotional struggle I am having with that. My friend wanted to criticize him (in defense of me, of course, because she loves me), but I said, “Some people don’t place sentimental value on THINGS,” and I know that is true. She nodded in agreement.
But, things have stories. Still, they don’t need to be kept physically.
I have a small collection of old cameras that started with my brother’s camera on the top right. We added Chip’s camera – front center – and have added more since. Nothing particularly valuable, many non-functioning but intact, bridging my imagination to the past, to what my brother and my husband and perfect strangers focused on through those lenses.
- Pictures and stories can be saved without cluttering the space. It’s one of the things I help people to do.
- Things can be “kept” with video and photography, whether for insured value or sentimental value. It’s another thing I help people to do.
The other conversation was a reference to minimalism and the movement to get rid of things.
- A minimalist would tell me to get rid of my non-functioning cameras and typewriters and broken fountain pens.
- They would tell me it’s pointless to keep the box Gram gave me from her first pair of pantyhose.
- They would say to get rid of the scraps of paper with notes written by my mom, my kids, my husband.
For years, I gave that a try. I envisioned a world with one lovely thing on a shelf, a few photos on the wall, nothing extra on the countertops.
But that doesn’t work for me, and the effort to make it happen was draining.
Don’t get me wrong – hoarding is a complex step above what I’m talking about … though with the piles and boxes of things from Mom and all the slides and photo albums from Chip’s mom, our house is currently living on the cluttered edge. I’m chipping away at all of that.
What I’m talking about is the precious bits of memorabilia, the controlled and documented collections of things you love.
I LOVE that Gram gave me the box from her first pair of pantyhose.
She was raised during the Depression. They had less than nothing, so when she and Pap built their lumber and farming business, it was a really big deal for her to be able to purchase her first pair of pantyhose, so she kept the box. She gave me the box. And I kept the box.
I also took a picture of the box and documented the story – what that box represents in our family history.
My mom’s infinity glasses. It turns out, upon research, that they are something special, so in addition to their sentimental value for me they also represent the #LessonFromNonnie of saving for the fancy thing and sticking to your goal.
Things can be a portal to the past.
- To my right, when I’m sitting at my desk, I have a clear glass lamp that is filled with random items – a photo of my brother, one of Pap’s pocket calendars with “DANILEA TO AIRPORT. FLIGHT LEAVES AT 5:00” written in his scrawling hand, a “SCOTT” workshirt patch from one of my dad’s shirts. Detritus to some. Treasures to me.
- Poster-puttied to the top of my computer screen is a tiny rubber cardinal. I bought them for Gram and the kids and me after Pap’s passing.
- On the shelves behind my desk, there are two FULL shelves of little things the kids made over the years in art classes. To my right, filled with nail files, is a mug Lydan made for me. When he gave it to me, he said, “You can use it for coffee. You just gotta be careful of the holes.” I literally chuckle every time I look at it and think of how earnestly loving he was in giving me that gift. Then I travel down the road of other Lydanisms – after learning about the statues of Lincoln and Washington, he told me all about it. He sat in front of me for a bit, thinking, then turned and looked at me with desperation in his eyes, “Mama, I don’t wanna be a statue. I wanna LIVE, Mama; I wanna LIVE.”
- On the dining table – where I frequently rotate the tablescape because among the things I love to collect is a fair amount of glassware, mostly random and without value – I have a clear yellow decanter and six or seven tiny little yellow “mugs.” One of the mugs has a shriveled-up dandelion in it that Chip brought to me when I was sick on the sofa and he had just mowed the lawn, saving one lone dandelion from the blades.
As I write this, I should be cleaning my office, finishing the task of going through bags and boxes of things I brought from Mom – some as far back as late February and early March, still cluttering our home and my mind. That’s actually what I intended to do this morning before heading up the mountain to visit Dad, Aunt Jackee, and Gram.
There are things to donate, give, share. There are things to keep. There are things to simply photograph and hide away or throw away. There are bags in the front hallway and boxes in the family room and garage, and don’t even get me started on what our laundry and closet situation looks like right now.
Despite my frustration with the current clutter, I do not feel moved to just purge. I know I’ll regret that. Some scrap of paper with a note written by my mom will accidentally end up in the trash, and so I will work a bit at a time, until the hyper-focus of ADD takes over and I get it all done.
These things deserve my attention because things matter to me. Not so much in the sense of Earthly gain – though I was really proud when I bought myself the spiffy Yukon – but because of the stories.
So, the point of these ruminations about things is this – I can help you to let go of the things you do not have space for.
- Take photos of them in use, being worn, on display.
- Stage photos. I use an inexpensive little white box I ordered from Amazon that is intended for taking product pictures. (I actually bought it take photos of mugs and other small pieces I created through the #PixelChixDesigns part of Dani’s Pixel Place.) If I want a well-lit, less “snapshot-ish” photo of something, I place it in that box to take the photo.
- Create an album in your #FOREVERStorage account for #ThingsThatDefineMe. Upload the pictures, then “journal” the story in the image description. There’s no limit to how much you can write for each picture. You can purchase your storage HERE.
- If you prefer narrating to writing, grab your phone and take a little video and upload that. Remember, so that you can play video without downloading, you’ll want to add #VideoStreaming to your account. Add monthly, annual, or lifetime STREAMING HERE.
- If you have organized photo files on your desktop, laptop, or external hard drive, you can move them to permanent storage WITH the original file structure intact with VALET.
- We can digitize your outdated media too and clear that clutter. Learn more about our DIGITIZING SERVICES HERE.
- If you want us to do the uploading and curating for you, consider our CONCIERGE SERVICES.
Dani’s Pixel Place can help you to eliminate clutter but honor the stories of the things that define you.
It’s my honor to help you. It’s our #SacredMission to help you because every piece of debris, every valuable item, every precious little doodle is your connection to the past and should be carried into the future.
Part of this includes making sure your heirs know where the video, the photos, the audio files – their story – is located. With your will, include THIS DOCUMENT.
If they know the stories, they will know which things they want to keep, but documenting it frees them too. My oldest, Chapin, is very sentimental, but he is also a minimalist – probably the partial source of my previous efforts to minimize. I want him to feel zero guilt about eliminating things he considers to be clutter, and so I document and tell the stories.
To help you to assess your needs, I’ve created some checklists. Download and use what is helpful to you.
- Determine your collection of DIGITAL FILES – local storage and online by downloading the DIGITAL FILE INVENTORY.
- Take stock of your outdated media by downloading the MEDIA INVENTORY.
- For insured items, create an album using the INSURANCE INVENTORY.
- If you’d like assistance with advance planning so your surviving loved ones have less stress, take a look at the special client care I offer for those services HERE.
We look forward to working with you to create a #DigitalEstate that will be meaningful and permanent and can include all the THINGS that matter to you.
My completely worthless but priceless “Mama” bracelet from my children with the valuable pieces of Mom’s that remind me every day of the love and connection on both sides of me – from my children and from my mom. Our family has always valued nice jewelry, but for me, it’s the stories even more than the piece. I was in a position that required me to sell some pieces to pay attorney and keep my children safe, but there were some pieces with which I will never part and will pass down for my children. Some day, I’ll share the story of the ruby ring Dad and I chose for Mom – it has in it #LessonsFromNonnie and #LessonsFromPoppop.
My children’s artwork. Much of it is scanned and saved. Some of it is displayed in our home. All of it contains some of their joy and hope and creativity.
An old home near a place we used to visit a lifetime ago – it was falling down but I crept in and took pictures of the dishes in the cupboard and the books on the desk, the music on the piano. I see these things and think about the stories the live in the walls, the meals that were eaten from these plates, the thoughts that flowed while sitting over the books and the piano. The home that has become debris and has probably been consumed by the land by now made me sad and filled my mind with the imagination of it all.
All of these images of the #ThingsThatDefineMe are in my permanent storage. Some things are included because of their insured value. But many, many more things are secured because they are symbols of our story, because they (for me) contain a spiritual connection to people and places and STORIES. It’s always the story that gets me.
This bracelet, while precious in the traditional sense, is made more precious by the memory of Mom giving it to me privately on Christmas morning – away from Dad and the kids and the ex something or other – telling me she wanted me to have something special from her and that she had gotten one for herself too. She didn’t quite know what to do with all the turmoil that defined our home at the time, but she found a quiet moment to give me something just between us. A #LessonFromNonnie that I value and struggle with at the same time.
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