{"id":3384,"date":"2012-07-31T09:54:39","date_gmt":"2012-07-31T13:54:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/julijasukys.com\/?p=3384"},"modified":"2012-07-31T10:48:41","modified_gmt":"2012-07-31T14:48:41","slug":"on-clutter","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/julijasukys.com\/?p=3384","title":{"rendered":"On Clutter"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Pack<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/a>Today, I return to my manuscripts. I\u2019ve got both an essay and a book that I abandoned unceremoniously some four months ago. I can\u2019t wait to get back to them.<\/p>\n

But there were good reasons for my break from writing: there was our house in Gozo to pack up, our life to get back in order upon our return to Montreal, and Sebastian to entertain before day camp started up. Finally, I had paying work to finish and a new book to promote.<\/p>\n

Before leaving on our 8-month Maltese adventure, I sifted through every belonging in our house and did a huge purge. Upon returning, we de-cluttered again, considering the use, value and necessity of each object as it emerged from its box.\u00a0(Time and distance really do give you a good perspective on the things you own and drag around.)<\/p>\n

Keeping clutter down in our house is tough for me. I\u2019m a pack rat by nature, having descended from a long line of war babies whose instinct was to keep things just in case. For example, though my maternal grandmother\u2019s house was spotless and tidy, its cupboards and closets were lined with neat little labelled packages of thread, photographs, letters, wedding shoes, fishing lures\u2026you name it. She was a secret pack rat — literally, a closeted one.<\/p>\n

My mother\u2019s house, on the other hand, was just packed \u2013 totally randomly and without labels or order or pretence. When she moved out of her condo and into a nursing home (when her Multiple Sclerosis made 24-hour care necessary), I spent days shredding decades-worth of papers, among which I found several envelopes of cash and caches of family letters (I kept both). I sorted through broken furniture, piles of books, nonfunctional stereos, old records, dusty silk flowers, jars of pennies and foreign currency, dishes, and vases galore. I managed to get rid of most of the clutter, fighting my impulse to keep this or that just in case, but I shipped home the boxes and boxes of family photographs that had filled my mother’s living room wall unit. None of the photos are organized or in books. They are in envelopes or tossed loose into cartons. Most aren’t even labelled.<\/p>\n

The idea of going through them now overwhelms me.<\/p>\n

When we returned from Gozo, instead of putting these boxes back in our basement closet where they sat undisturbed for years since I’d moved them out of the condo, I left them out in a pile. Seeing them every day would mean I couldn’t ignore them, and I vowed to triage and order the images into some sort of family narrative. But even as I resolved to do so, I confessed to Sean that I couldn\u2019t see how. I hadn’t even started, and already I felt resentful of the tedium that would stall my writing even longer.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve been saying you need a frame for the book, so write about it. Use the process,\u201d he answered.<\/p>\n

And a light went on. Sean had given me the key to finishing the book about my paternal grandmother and her life in Siberia.<\/p>\n

I start this new phase of sorting and de-cluttering (and research) today.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ll let you know what I find.<\/p>\n

[Photo:\u00a0Pack Rat<\/a> by\u00a0davedillonphoto<\/a>]<\/p>\n

\"Share<\/a>