Digital Purge

Part of the reason I started this blog was to have a place where I could write about my pursuit of an uncluttered life. I started out with my bedroom feeling so crowded with "stuff" that I wasn't really getting to enjoy any of it. So last summer I did a major purge of old papers, clothes, and random acquired objects, as well as doing my annual clean-out and re-shelve of my books. Over my winter break I cleared out old CDs and more random acquired objects. And I gotta say, this process of simplifying feels great. I feel like almost all of the objects I now have in my room (at home; the dorm room is a whole separate beast) have a purpose for being there; they are all things that provide pleasure or some other utility.

However, I realized that I haven't written much about purging digital clutter. In today's highly technological age, it's just as easy to find your computer crammed with unnecessary documents and programs as it is to find a Dunkin' Donuts in New England (for non-New Englanders, pick a business in your area that's on every street corner). Technological data is pervasive.

In some regards, that's terribly convenient for aspiring "unclutterers" like myself-- digitizing data and even memories is an effective way to ditch physical clutter (like my efforts to reduce my CD collection by moving the ones that I want to keep onto my computer in mp3 format). However, all that being said, collecting too much stuff in digital format is also qualifies as clutter.

Oh sure, it may be way less noticeable-- after all, it's still on your hard drive, and even if you have an external drive you probably still only have three physical objects. But have you ever tried to find a particular document that you needed, only to have it take upwards of half an hour because you got bogged down while looking? Or looked for an email but-- even with the help of Gmail's wonderful search capabilities-- gotten lost in the maelstrom that is your inbox?

Don't worry about it-- you're in good company here. My computer's hard drive is incredibly full, and I hardly know where to begin cleaning it out. Last summer I went through my "My Documents" folder and organized everything, deleting the things that were obviously no longer necessary and arranging the remaining documents by topic. That made a big difference in my ability to locate these items. I've also made some strides toward simplifying my email inbox, getting it down to a "baseline-zero" level (more on that later), unsubscribing from most newsletters, and deleting some old and totally unnecessary emails.

However, there's still a long way to go. I expect I will write again soon on the downside of Google and more topics related to technological simplification. In the meantime, let me just leave off on the idea that technological simplification can be just as psychologically rewarding as physical simplification. Same basic principle-- everything's easier to find, and it leaves more space for what you truly enjoy.

Traveling Light

One of the first things I realized when I decided to go away to college was that for the next four years of my life, I would have two quite tangible homes. True, one was (and is) in a dorm with several hundred other people, and I would have to wear shoes into the shower, and the quality of the food would be debatable at best, but it's a kind of home all the same. And the concept of having multiple homes remains quite bizarre in a way, even two and a half years into this whole college experiment. I'm used to going back and forth now, used to almost never having all of my belongings in one place, used to spending lots of time in airports and train stations as I attempt to get from one place to another.

Packing up tonight to go back to DC, I am surprised (and a bit ashamed of myself) for all the *stuff* I have accumulated over the last month of break. I realize that most of it is somewhat necessary-- I had to go shopping to build up a wardrobe appropriate for my internship, attire that unfortunately needs to go beyond my usual preference for jeans and a t-shirt-- but the fact that packing it is amounting to a cardboard box (which I am shipping), a suitcase, and a backpack still seems a bit much to me. Since I have only carried a backpack and duffel bag on my last couple of trips home, I have learned the immense value of traveling light. I really like carrying as little as possible; admittedly, it's having my belongings divided between two places that currently allows me to do that. But I appreciate more and more that owning less-- and carrying less-- makes life less stressful. As Leo wrote over at mnmlist, there is a "true cost of stuff" beyond what you pay when you purchase it.

Since I am in the process of downsizing-- which in some ways requires as much mental effort as physical-- it's helpful to me to envision a life where I can truly say I place a higher value on experiences and people than on things, and to picture myself traveling light, no matter whether I am going on a walk around the block or a trip around the world. Traveling light means not having to stress out because you place a low enough value on your stuff that it's not worth worrying. It's a mental benefit of a physical act, and I think it would be well worth it to reach that point.

Operation: Compact Disc

Last summer, I launched a major clean-out and decluttering attempt in my bedroom at home. It was fairly successful-- at the end of it, I hauled out three or four boxes worth of papers, plus more full of knick-knacks, and donated or sold a small stack of books. But twenty years worth of clutter does take time to fully sort through, and so I have opted to continue it a little bit during this winter break from school.

The targets: my knick-knack shelf and my CD collection.

Operation: Knick-Knack was easy. I've accumulated a number of small porcelain objects through the years via gifts from friends and family members, and I realized that they were all doing nothing but gathering dust. Meanwhile, there were too many for me to really enjoy the ones that had the most treasured memories attached to them. So I went through the shelf and pulled off all but the ten most important, and added them to the giveaway (or throw-away) box. I've never been able to do this so easily before. I think I've finally come to the point where I'm realizing that memories don't need to be attached to stuff...and it helps that I have very limited recall of most of the stuff I am getting rid of anyway.

Operation CD, on the other hand, was a bit more complicated. Confession: I am a serious musical addict. I love playing and listening to most genres of music, and my iTunes library currently holds over 15 days worth of songs. Before the days when iTunes was my primary music player, though, I collected CDs. Some came from my parents, some were gifts, some I purchased...but eventually I built up an incredibly substantial library. I should have counted, but I suspect there may have been over 100 compact discs in my room. Until yesterday, the cases filled up one CD tower, one set of three drawers, a box, and multiple stacks around the room. The CDs themselves were housed in four full CD wallets.

Clearly, even the things you love (books, music, movies) can become clutter. CDs are no longer my primary means of playing music-- I really only use them in the car. I also didn't necessarily like every, or even most, of the songs on many of the CDs I had. Some of them I don't even know how I obtained. And while it's nice to have the physical copies of the CDs (especially in the event of a hard drive crash), there's a point where you just have to say 'enough.'

So yesterday I decided to significantly reduce my CD collection, which took four stages:

1) Go through each CD wallet and sort the discs back into their original cases.

2) Decide which CDs to keep. Criteria: I must like at least three-quarters of the songs on the album, and be inclined to listen to the CD in the car. Not very scientific, but effective.

3) Sort through the CDs that I am getting rid of and rip the ones that are not on my hard drive onto my computer. Just because I don't want to keep the CD doesn't mean I don't want a digital copy of the song!

4) Put the giveaway CDs in a box and hand off to my parents. They get to decide the next step for the discs, since a lot of them belonged to them to begin with.

OK, so maybe the last stage is a bit of a cop-out. But I'm okay with that, partly because I've achieved my goal to get the CDs out of my room, and partly because they are a lot more attached to some of those discs than I am. Hopefully I can encourage them to reduce their own collection to one that really matters to them, but that's not my call to make. Meanwhile, my room looks a lot better and I can start looking for my next de-cluttering mission.