Have you ever had an idea stalk you? One day, you read an article online and think, “Hmm, that’s interesting.” Later in the week as you’re washing dishes, a story on the same topic comes on the radio. Two weeks later on your favorite television show, a character refers to the concept you just read about. It starts to feel like the universe is tapping you on the shoulder.
This is happening to me now. The idea stalking me is (hold on) Swedish death cleaning (döstädning). Don’t let the name put you off. You don’t have to be ill or in your eighth decade to practice it, or even appreciate it. The principle behind this decluttering technique is twofold:
- We sort our belongings and ditch the accumulated clutter so that our loved ones don’t have to deal with it when we eventually pass.
- As a result, we enjoy ourselves and the things we treasure more, because our junk doesn’t choke us.
Spiritual considerations
From time to time I get the urge to purge. When I do, I seize the day because I know the feeling most certainly will pass. Being stuck in the house for the past year prompted my most recent decluttering campaigns. I’m not alone–millions of people have seized the opportunity lockdowns presented us to clean out closets and attics and basements. There is something deeply freeing in letting go of things you no longer need. But unlike Marie Kondo’s approach, Swedish death cleaning has a mildly spiritual element to it.
It invites you to slowness, contemplating room by room and object by object who might uniquely appreciate an item you’re ready to kiss goodbye. Invite the person to consider whether they want the thing–don’t just assume and shove it onto them. Embedded in the practice is a cherishing of memories attached to an object. Respecting the choices of potential recipients is also important. (If they don’t want it, don’t guilt-trip them about it). If someone declines your offering, don’t fret about waste. Just donate it. There are plenty of people starting new lives who could make use of your unwanted items.
William Morris, the 19th-century designer and poet who was a key figure in the Arts and Crafts movement, once advised, “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be beautiful or believe to be useful.” The problem is, I have a lot of stuff I know is either beautiful or useful, or both, that I’m not enjoying because I have other stuff I consider more beautiful, or more useful.
I feel sentimental about it because I received it as a wedding present, or a friend I haven’t seen in years gifted it to me. Maybe it represented something important to me at another stage in my life. It’s with this stuff that I attempt to part, to consider who might need it and to share it with them, that it may fulfill something important to them for a while.
It’s slow work. But the more I practice decluttering, and the more space I make, the freer I become.
