Try her "stairs concept" to get clutter out the door

 
 
 

Sometimes I give advice and provide ideas. Other times, I bear witness to clients having their own eureka moments. Either way, these ideas feel collaborative because we have them in the presence of the other.  One such idea that a client had while we were together is what we call the "stairs concept." As soon as she shared it well into our session, I said,"Yes! Maybe it's this easy!"

She and I have been working together in her beautiful home since 2015. The company she entertains likely thinks she has it all together. What they might not see is her stacks of magazines and catalogs. Bless her heart, this woman LOVES a design magazine. She also loves a catalog, a Financial Times, a Harvard Business Review, a cooking magazine - all of it. Ever since I've known her we've concocted various reading tote bags, plans to haul reading to her beach house and plans for reading at certain times in certain parts of the home. Still, the piles pop-up like a game of whack-a-mole.

During my most recent visit, her piles were in the usual places: the kitchen island, living room baskets, and the office. They had spilled over to a new spot too: the stairs to a loft that is her husband's man cave. In the middle of our marathon magazine purge, she had an idea:

"What if I give my husband permission to toss anything I put on the stairs?!"

She noted that if she didn't go through those two piles, he could theoretically toss them and she'd never know what she missed. But here's the best reason to put this final step into his hands:

She wouldn't have to execute the emotionally toughest part of the process: dropping them into the recycling bin. All she has to do is set it on the stairs just feet outside of her office. Easy enough, right?

This made me realize that all too often people deem something as trash/recycle/donate in their mind, but that last step of taking it out the door and turning it into trash is more than they can bear - be it a sentimental item or a Talbot's catalog.

A few days later I shared the "stairs concept" with a virtual coaching client. She immediately came up with her own version. Her mother frequently comes over and is always willing to help with the house. She was going to test the idea of creating a pile in her garage for her mom to make disappear. This will be for items that she knows she should discard, but just can't bring herself to.

I didn't think I was in the same club as these two clients until yesterday when I dropped off some clothes for donation. I had been carrying around a few of my own items in my trunk for a while. I couldn't recall any of the items until I pulled them out of my bag, forced to revisit them, and dropped them into the bin. There were a few high ticket items that weren't consignable for a number of reasons. To see them become "trash" (yes, I know I was donating them), was a lot harder than it should have been. Specifically, I felt cringeworthy guilt. And, for the 100th time I ran through other options for getting these into the "right" hands. If only I had a system in place for making things disappear before the painful bin-drop.

Taking something out of the place where it's been parked for years is sometimes a final step that never happens, or happens too slowly. That leaves us surrounded by trash that is 90% out the door.  There is merit to being a part of the full lifecycle of an item. It feels honest. Seeing it through to the end could help some of us to acquire less in the first place; It can be useful to feel the emotions of watching our things truly expire.  But, if this final step causes us to live amongst our trash, why not eliminate this step if we can?

Have you noticed that the final step of trashing/donating is a significant speed bump in your decluttering process? Do you already have a "stairs concept" in place? If not, what are your ideas for cutting off this last step? Please share in the comments!

 
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