Getting Rid of Stuff

It's THE weekend. One bookmarked for ages as the time when we'll have our estate agent valuations in and the house needs to be ready to go on the market. Our handyman has spent many days fixing, painting and tidying up the walls, so now it's over to us to "stage" the house for the photo shoot next week. This means decluttering, which means getting rid of stuff.

It's amazing just how much stuff you manage to accumulate. I know that the amount of stuff in our house has grown exponentially since we had children, but even so, there still seems to be a lot of stuff that belongs to us as well. No matter how many clear outs, tip runs or charity shop bags we've generated in recent years, we still have an awful lot of things to get rid of before the big move.

It's a strange situation to be in as we're not only moving house, but moving country. If we were simply looking to find somewhere bigger in Leeds, we'd probably junk a couple of boxes of stuff, but take most of it with us in a van. However, we want a fresh start in America as well as avoiding paying exorbitant shipping fees for things that aren't all that nice or precious in the first place. It's a move that requires thought over the value of things we want to take, rather than the convenience of having it in our next home.

Getting rid of stuff appears to require two questions to be asked of each item: "Do I want to get rid of it?" and "How do I get rid of it?". There's lots of stuff that has an easy answer to the first question. All of our kitchen stuff (apart from a few curiosities and special mugs) has been with me since student days, so the answer is definitely yes. A lot of the furniture is either second hand when we first moved in or so big and bulky that it's not worth the shipping cost, so the answer again is yes. Things like our photo albums, my gran's bronze fireguard, my grandfather's typewriter obviously fall into the no category and we'll pack these away.

Some things, however, are much harder to answer. What about the dozens of books that line our bookshelves? Not all of them are classics, and we both now have kindles with more books loaded on than we could read in several lifetimes. Do I want to get rid of my books? Not really as they represent part of who I am, but do I want to take them with me, big and bulky as they are? Not really. A halfway house is to take those with meaning, or that can't be replaced and rely on us being more selective about the books we physically buy in our new house. It's an interesting thought in this transition time between paper and screen about whether it's worth holding onto books that you bought at the airport or second hand, but have sat on the shelf for so long that they're part of the make up of your house. We will always have books in our house (I still dream of a massive mahogany library with a ladder to get to the top shelves!) but maybe it's time to be choosy about which ones.

Artwork is also tricky, but less so. I'm proud to have a huge number of creative friends, and most of the artwork on the walls in our house has been created specifically for us. I want these items to come with, so we'll have to find a way of keeping the prints and pictures flat and safe so we can reframe them across the pond.

The process of getting rid of stuff is an interesting one. With the rise of the internet, there are so many different ways to divest yourself of things you don't need, from sites like ebay and gumtree to freecycle and facebook groups. We've also signed up for a baby nearly new sale, where you can get rid of loads of things and bring in a little extra cash too. However, with the time limit looming (less than 10 weeks to go!) and the prospect of wanting a tidy house for a quick sale, the issue becomes less about getting money for items that have value, and more about how to get things out quickly. Freecycle here is a godsend as everything that I've put on has always been collected with thanks inside a week. It's also an email based system so you can keep in touch with people who share odd details with you (we've found a Polish couple having a baby in April, so our plan with them is to give them everything when we leave!) which makes the process of getting rid of stuff easier.

The bigger items that we use day in and day out will be harder. Our bed and sofas for example will need to stay right up the end, and I'm not sure how we'll manage the timing of passing those on. It may be that we send the kids away with one of somewhere so the other can clear the house ready for the new owners. In any case, I've learned my lesson about trying to get money out of old furniture so it will all go for free to the next home.

All of this decluttering feels in part cathartic and in part like we're shedding a skin.

It's cathartic because it makes you examine what is important to you, and the answer comes back load and clear - not stuff. My mum read an article recently about decluttering, and it asked you to look at each of your possessions and ask if it sparked joy in your life (we did ask if my dad still sparked joy for her; fortunately the answer was yes!). If it doesn't, it's time to get rid of it. I feel that this is what we're doing, on a very quick and very big timescale.

It's cathartic because you find that it's ok to have stuff that sparks joy, or a memory, or a rueful smile, and the rest can go. It's cathartic because after watching a couple of friends and my family deal with the leftover stuff of someone who passed away, I like the fact that I've done all the awkward "what shall we do with this? Would he have wanted us to keep it? Why does he still have this in the attic?" sorting moments, so that when my time does come, Sophie and Jake will have much less stuff, and much more meaningful stuff, to sort through.

It feels like we're shedding a skin because we're going to turn up in America like true immigrants, with a suitcase of money and all of our worldly possessions (at least those that spark joy) on our back. Our new house won't feel much like this one at all in the way that it looks, but we will slowly start to accumulate a new skin and it will start to feel like home (or home-home) before we know it.