I’m a declutter by degrees. It takes me a few passes to reach a level of deep satisfaction as I reduce six bins of baby boy clothes to four and then two. I feel lighter each time I smugly pass an empty Rubbermaid to my husband. Soon, they’ll be no evidence of my boys’ newborn days expect a few sleepers that evoke memories too deep to give away. This process is repeated for maternity clothes, teaching supplies, and kitchen items sitting idle on shelves I cannot reach. There is nothing safe from my systematic purges.
Since there is no “away” where does all our stuff go when it no longer serves us?
Does my participation in companies that resell my clothing and donating absolve me from the guilt of disposing of the items myself? Or will last year’s statement pieces make their way across the world to weigh down another…
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