Decluttering can be a dilemma

They say it’s important to declutter. Get rid of stuff that’s taking up space in your home and your garage. You’ve got to give it away, throw it away or haul it away. By doing so, they say you’ll be free of all the things of your past that are holding you back. You’ll be happier, more at peace and even sleep better. They even say you'll be able to focus and have clarity of mind.

I believe them, kind of.

Maybe I would discover a sense of calm that eludes me. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so restless and have this urge to move, perhaps return to Hawaii, go somewhere new. Maybe then I could relax.

That sounds good.

But still, I can’t do it. At least not yet.

I’ll explain.

In my garage, I have, I believe, five footlockers that hold pieces of the past. Sports books, magazines, cards and posters of my childhood are still locked safely away. An old baseball uniform, a notebook with autographs including "Pistol" Pete Maravich, birthday cards, chess pieces, the bowling sheet of my first 200 game and track trophies have been stored away for decades.

And then, there’s the artwork, homework assignments, tests, notes, certificates, awards and report cards of our five kids. Not sure why I kept them, but I did. Every year, I open the footlockers. Every year, I think it’s time. I can do this. I pick out a few things, start a pile. Organize. Categorize. Reminisce. Then I put it all back, close the lid and hoist the heavy locker back to the attic space above the garage, where it will remain until next year.

It’s just as bad when it comes to running shoes. I anguish over giving them up, no matter how worn they are. They are like old friends. They have been with me for miles in mud, snow, sun and rain. Over rock, dirt and pavement. Through streams and rivers. The trails of Tubbs and The Boardwalk and the North Idaho Centennial Trail. Each shoe has a story to tell.

I even collect old running shoes. In a large box in the closet of my room there are pairs of them. Nike. New Balance. Saucony. Adidas. Asics. Tiger.

On display are the Brooks Burns I wore when I ran the Boston Marathon in 2006 and my prized gold and black Puma track shoes that carried me to my fastest mile in high school, a 4:46 that I still so clearly can remember.

My father was an avid book collector. When he died, I inherited scores of them and for nearly a decade they have sat on shelves in our family room. Old ones that I will never read. But they still sit in a place of honor, a tribute to my father.

I have a vast collection of running books filling an entire bookcase. Probably a hundred of so, with the favorites, like John L. Parker’s “Once a Runner,” on the top shelf. I consider them untouchable.

I know. I should surrender it all. Most of it is worthless. My treasure. Another man’s junk.

There is hope. 

The more I read about the wonders of decluttering, freeing up space, letting go of the past, finding freedom, it does indeed sound enticing. Why do I keep all the stuff? I don’t need it, right? Just get rid of it, once and for all!

Yes, the more I think I should do it. Yes, I will. It’s all got to go. I’m committed. Stop hanging on to the past. It's time.

But not today.

Tomorrow would be better.

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Bill Buley is assistant managing editor of The Coeur d'Alene Press.