For the past few weeks I've been painting some rooms and getting them ready for workers to remove carpet and install new flooring. That means I've had to empty closets, move items to other rooms, and in the process, deposit some stuff in the garbage can.
I don't think I'm a hoarder (although some family members would disagree). I like to think of myself as more of a collector. The problem is that it would appear I collect everything. And we all know there are things that may be worthless but still hold sentimental value -- if you can remember what that was when you put them away.
But appearances can be deceiving. I do throw things away. Actually, in the past couple of years, I've refused things because I knew they would add to the clutter in my life. So you might even say that I've been virtually getting rid of things before they entered my house. That has to count for something.
In the meantime, I've been taking books to the Friends of the Library drop-off bin to be sold in the bookstore and annual sales. I've tossed quite a few magazines and given some away. I've gone through old paper records and shredded them. I've taken clothes to the Goodwill store. So I'm making progress.
The decluttering is a work in progress because I don't know when it'll end. But I'm going to keep at it until I can see that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.