Hold on, let go: The bookshelf edition.
Why does deciding which books to keep make me question my whole life?
We got on a recycling kick last weekend, my husband and I. Not glass and plastic bottles and cardboard, which we put in the bin each week for curbside pickup, but the big stuff: Used tires, styrofoam and — especially — electronics. He got so into it he drove two full SUV-loads over to the University of Memphis, which was hosting the Memphis/Shelby County Recycling Roundup (shout out to the great volunteers and the Tennessee Environmental Council).
Now that you can see more of the floor in my husband’s (home) office, we got to talking about what should be next. Standing in the middle of the office, we really got going: The twin mattresses in the attic! We should shred all of these bags of old financial records! Who might want the beginner drum set in the closet?
“I think we need to get rid of some of these books,” he said, gesturing to the packed bookcases that line an entire wall.
Now wait just a minute.
It probably won’t surprise you to hear that I love books in a way that might not be totally normal. I read history, journalism and politics, mostly, but have been turning more toward fiction over the last few years as an escape from real life (especially real political life).
I have piles of books in the living room and on my bedside table, and the bookshelves in Andy’s office are just the most prominent shelves in the house; we have them in nearly every room. I haunt the independent booksellers in town and have been known to drive three hours just to hear a half-hour conversation (at a bookstore) by a favorite writer. I love libraries. I’ve recently discovered bookshop.org and have also been known to snap up a new release from Amazon and devour it over a weekend (I know, I know, buying local is better).
So the idea of getting rid of books — my books — has prompted something of an existential crisis.
Because I know he’s right: It’s time to keep getting rid of stuff, decluttering the place we’ve lived for more than two decades. No, we’re not planning to go anywhere anytime soon, but once we began thinking about things we might not need again, it became clear that, well, pretty much everything is something we might not need again.
And there’s a lot of it, so we probably need to start NOW. Mostly so no one else has to do it.
You’ve heard of Swedish Death Cleaning, right?
Popularized by the 2018 book “The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning: How to Free Yourself and Your Family From a Lifetime of Clutter,” it’s something of a cultural phenomenon. There are workbooks, a TV series and countless magazine and blog stories about how beginning to edit objects out of your life can give you clarity and calm, improve your relationships and teach your children the value of minimalism. The book blurbs promise that author Margareta Magnussen’s instructions “make the process uplifting rather than overwhelming.”
Right.
Then there’s the other part, lurking farther down the list of blurbs: “Along the way, readers also become more comfortable with the idea of letting go.”
Ah, now we’re getting down to it.
I’ve always thought of my books as a tangible reflection of my life, my passions — and the more the better. There are some that I’ll treasure forever and some I might actually read again one day.
But I’m reaching the stage in my life where I can see that amassing new treasures isn’t as important as giving them away — to my son, to my friends, to my church.
So why am I resisting getting rid of at least some of these books? And how do you do it, anyway? (I’m really asking here.)
I turned back to Margareta and her book and suddenly the answer dawned: You figure out how to death clean for the people you love most, for the people who’ll be around after you’re gone. Death cleaning might be the ultimate act of love, even if it happens years before you actually die.
As Margareta wrote early in her book, “I have death cleaned so many times for others, I’ll be damned if someone else has to death clean after me.”
Suddenly, I see how to think about my books and all of the other corners of the house that are full of memories that belong to me, but not to anyone else.
Anyone interested in some great used books?
I loved this! I’ve had two experiences with “death cleaning”. One was good, one not so much. It has definitely helped me remember that what I think is a valuable thing (based on a memory or connection to someone) has no meaning to my children. There are a few things I want to pass on to them, but I still have a lot of purging to do. I’ll have to check out the book about how to do it! Thanks for this thought message!
There's nothing so comforting as being surrounded by books. But when you have to dust behind them in massive quantities, or pack and move them, then the Swedish Death Cleaning concept really makes sense. We've landed on a happy medium of a few shelves of lifelong keepers, and then joyfully giving away books we've read and loved, and found the perfect recipient we think will also love them (like you being the absolute perfect recipient for that Blue Zones cookbook). I've also found that once I purge the book piles, I feel less squeamish about buying more books! EVERYBODY WINS!