Decluttering? OK but Here's Why the Might-Come-In-Handy-One-Day Principle is so Stubborn and Strong

If you've ever tried to declutter your home you may have hit a common obstacle. As you duly sort stuff into three "Keep", "Throw", "Think About It" piles you notice with horror that the "Throw" pile is ten times smaller than the other two. You know exactly what I mean. You pick up an old pair of shoes you haven't worn, or even looked at, for two years and you think...

Well, you know what you think. So you put them in the "Keep" or "Think" pile.

I don't keep masses of possessions but even so the last time I did the decluttering exercise I ended up with a tiny pile of stuff to get rid of. Instead of feeling bad about it, I tried to figure out why getting rid of stuff can be hard. Here are the conclusions.

Many of our possessions are not just stuff. They're more than wool or china or leather or wood. They're repositories of our memories and emotions. If you cut yourself on a rusty can, you won't have much trouble throwing it away. But when you look at a pair of worn shoes you may remember wearing them the summer you fell in love or the evening you ate by Lake Tahoe on a great holiday. Good associations make it hard to let go. In that sense, objects can be like photos - reminders of good, bad or indifferent times.

Keeping old possessions is also a manifestation of hope. As you turn the broken clock in your hand you think one day you just might magically have the skill to repair it or you might take time to locate someone who already does. You look hard at that dress or suit that's just too tight and think... Well, you know what you think.

And keeping stuff is also a reflection of worry and apprehension. What if one day we're absolutely flat broke and just can't buy new stuff? We might have to get into those tight clothes. We might have to try and sell the broken clock and all the other stuff we don't use.

Lastly, keeping stuff can also be perfectly sensible and useful. It's just the might-come-in-handy-one-day principle and it's perfectly ecologically sound. You're invited to go kayaking on a gentle shallow river. It's not something you normally do and you need suitable shoes. Instead of buying new ones, you rummage around in the back of a cupboard and there they are - those weird rubbery shoes you wore, once, at the beach. You haven't looked at them since, but they're perfect for the river trip. Dusting them off you remember how you hesitated before they went in the "Keep" pile last time you decluttered. You felt guilty then but now you're vindicated. "Yep" you think, "I'm glad I kept them."