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My father passed on almost 2 years ago.

I’m a bit of a hoarder–tools, boxes, books, string, projects that I just need some time to play with, cool doo-dads; all sorts of things.

After my father passed, and my mom had time to grieve, she began to engage in Swedish Death Cleaning.

Yes, it’s a real thing. It’s not quite Marie Kondo, but it fits into the whole declutter/minimalist movement.

Going through my parents things with my mom is…odd. Do you want this? How about that? Things from my father’s office I coveted for decades I suddenly realized I don’t really want. There are things in my mom’s possession I think I want, but I’m not certain. I thought I wanted them. They look cool. Some have memories attached, but others not so much. Yes! I absolutely LOVE the “fancy” drinking glasses my mom has, but in thinking about actually having them?

They’re handblown glass. Lots of imperfections that make them gorgeous.

And NOT dishwasher safe.

I don’t want them for that reason, despite how awesome I think they are.

I guess, while my reaction to my father’s death was/is atypical, it has made me look at (slowly, like glacier movement during a ice age) the physical stuff I have, the things I want to achieve, and the time I may or may not have left.

I’ve left my husband out of this, and my own version of Swedish Death Cleaning. He was mildly upset that I had thrown away a box full of wall calendars that I’d been keeping since the 1990’s. Some of it was because the art was cool. Back in the day, if you couldn’t afford cool posters, you’d take apart a calendar once the year was over and pin up the pictures you liked on your walls.

Now, though, there are other forms of media one can easily access in order to find an inspiring picture. Once I realized that, I was able to toss the vast majority of them. Hubby-kins did not approve. Hubby-kins is also a hoarder. Hubby-kins wants to keep everything in our house, in my parent’s house, his parent’s house, and so on.

As I’ve gone through and gotten rid of things (very slowly), I haven’t let him know, because I don’t want to deal with an argument about why I donated my college theatre costume and make-up design books to the local high school, or why I’m selling certain excellent books on fiber arts from my collection, or getting rid of a drum carder, or a jacket, or whatever the hell.

Lately, the tiny bit of relief that I feel in letting something go that I don’t use is a bit of a rush. Not enough to make me dump everything in one weekend, but enough that I can feel myself become just a fraction of a bit lighter.

Having a lot of the stuff that I do puts a weight on my subconscious. Not just the “but what if I need it someday” worry, but also the “I have this item, therefor I need to find a way/time to learn to use this item/do this project/wear this thing/whatever.”

But if I don’t have the item, the pressure to use it isn’t there.

It feels like I’m slowly clearing out a room in my head.

Perhaps this will help me make enough space for my writing and all the work that goes into being an indie?

We’ll see.