Month 1: A Review of Decluttering

Over the last month, I've decluttered my life with renewed determination: clearing out physical spaces, establishing firmer boundaries around my schedule, and reducing mental chatter.

I cleaned my car, got rid of a table, and thinned down my wardrobe.

With deliberate intention, I turned away tasks that were enticing but not ultimately wise expenditures of energy.

I switched my phone to grayscale and removed entertainment apps and completed several neglected projects.

The results appeared quickly: I've noticed myself thinking happier thoughts and recalling happier memories.

It was all an effort, though. I dragged myself off the couch to do dishes. I cringed while refusing to fill an additional volunteer position. I bucked at the boredom which made me twitch in longing remembrance of the days of old when my phone was in color. My mother’s wisdom frequently came to mind – “you have to choose your hard” she would say. “It’s hard to be single, it’s hard to be married. It’s hard to be young, it’s hard to be old. It’s hard to be thin, it’s hard to be overweight.” If everything is going to be earned through effort, then I want my efforts to be placed in the right pursuits.

Measuring Joy: An Imperfect Science

As I tracked daily "scores" for joy and decluttering efforts, I noticed my tendency to make excuses: "I would have had an 80% joyful day if I weren't sick" or "I would have a 90% physical declutter day, but the donation center was closed."

I had to remind myself that reality includes the good and bad. "I was sick, so I was not 80% joyful today... whatever that means."

This wasn't rigorous science (truly some of the softest, most unserious science I have ever engaged with, and I'm so glad I'm not quitting my day job to pursue it), but it revealed patterns worth noting.

Behold: the science.

What I Discovered

I found that a decluttered physical space is indeed relaxing but given that my home was generally rather clean already, this decluttering only had the power to alter my mood slightly.

A simplified schedule, however, proved transformative yet challenging to maintain. Some weeks remain sharp and demanding despite practicing every good habit I can recall. Overall, refusing extra tasks and meetings brought a great deal of peace to my life.

Frequently, a few large, looming tasks would completely absorb my mental space and impart a sense of overwhelm. I still behave like a child pushing broccoli around her plate sometimes, so I must continue striving to be better about procrastinating the overwhelming tasks and allotting them less space for worry and anxiety.

What surprised me most was how much better I became at handling the small nagging tasks faster, which freed mental space to ponder happier things rather than constantly reviewing my checklist. These little daily memories emerged like rare and delicate chocolates—delightful, unforeseen luxuries serving no purpose except to make my day a little brighter. And that they did.

The Bathtub Theory of Happiness

Presently, I think of happiness like a bathtub. A full bathtub represents a heart filled with joy and peace; an empty one, a drained spirit. This month of simplifying primarily focused on fixing leaks rather than turning up the faucet.

Interestingly, just by patching these leaks—through decluttering and simplifying—the water level rose naturally, bringing unexpected moments of joy throughout my days. Had I tried turning up the faucet (seeking more happiness-inducing activities) before fixing these leaks, I might have simply created more pressure and exhaustion.

Now that I've created a more spacious life, I'm ready for the next phase: turning up the faucet.