The Maximalist :(

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I’ve donated an enormous amount of stuff over the course of my recent nomadic years.

Last January, I tackled the last bastion of clutter–the extra bedroom in the basement.

I bought a bunch of colour-coordinated bins, and spent a couple of days down there.

I hung all my unused art work on the wall to get it out of the pile.  I sorted through the boxes, and got rid of everything not deemed worthy of space in my bins.

I felt good–really good–about my efforts.

But lately, the bins have been bothering me.

They’re neat.  They’re tidy.  They’re a pretty robin’s egg blue…

…but they’re full of stuff.

Other than my Christmas decorations, I haven’t looked at any of it for years.

My sole interaction with this stuff has been transferring it from ugly cardboard boxes into expensive bins.

I can safely say none of it is bringing me joy.

What’s a wannabe minimalist to do?

I can move it all the garden shed where I’ll (hopefully) forget about it, or I can go through it again, whittling away at the pile.