You know what? Three years ago, if you'd told me I'd be writing about getting rid of my stuff, I would've laughed. I'm the guy who kept every tool manual, every spare part, every "might need this someday" item in boxes in my basement. My wife used to joke that our house was like a hardware store that people happened to live in. She wasn't wrong.
But here's the thing – working in people's homes every day, you see how they live. Some houses feel calm and organized, others… well, let's just say I've had to move piles of stuff just to get to electrical panels. Started noticing that the houses where I felt most comfortable working were usually the ones that weren't packed with clutter. Made me think about my own place.
The wake-up call came when my oldest son couldn't find his school project because it was buried under a mountain of papers, old magazines, and random junk on the dining room table. That table hadn't been used for actual dining in months. We were eating dinner in front of the TV every night because the table was just… storage. That's when I realized we had a problem.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not naturally organized. Growing up, my mom was always cleaning around us, picking up after everyone. When I got married and had kids, somehow I expected the same thing to just happen automatically. Spoiler alert: it doesn't. My wife works full-time too, and she was getting frustrated trying to keep up with all our stuff while everyone else just kept adding to the piles.
Started small because honestly, the whole house felt overwhelming. Began with my work van – if I could keep that organized, maybe I could figure out the house. Spent a Saturday going through every tool, every box of screws, every random cable I'd thrown in there. Amazing how much duplicate stuff I was carrying around. Three tape measures, four wire strippers, about twenty screwdrivers when I really only used three or four regularly.
Got rid of the duplicates, organized what was left, and suddenly I could find things. Jobs went faster when I wasn't digging around looking for the right tool. Saved time, which meant I could take on more work or get home earlier. That's when it clicked – less stuff actually made my life easier, not harder.
Applied the same logic to the basement. Twenty-two years of "<a href="https://zeroemissionjourney.com/urban-mining-for-rare-materials/"><a href="https://zeroemissionjourney.com/urban-mining-for-rare-materials/">this might be useful someday</a></a>" had turned it into a maze of boxes and random equipment. Old electronics that didn't work, leftover materials from jobs that would never match any future projects, exercise equipment we'd used exactly twice. My brother-in-law helped me haul three truck loads to donation centers and the dump.
The clothes situation was… embarrassing. I had work shirts from companies that went out of business ten years ago. Jeans that hadn't fit since my twenties but I kept "just in case." My wife pointed out that if I lost enough weight to fit into those old jeans, I'd probably want to buy new ones anyway. She had a point.
Here's what surprised me though – getting rid of stuff was harder emotionally than I expected. That old Flyers jersey with the stain on it? Wore it to every playoff game for five years. Those beat-up work boots? They'd been through everything with me. Even though I had newer, better versions of everything, letting go felt weird. Like I was throwing away pieces of my life.
But once I did it, man… the relief was incredible. Walking into rooms that weren't cluttered, being able to find things when I needed them, not having to move piles of stuff to use our own furniture. The house felt bigger even though we hadn't changed anything structural. My wife said it felt like we could finally breathe.
The kids fought it at first. Teenagers don't want to get rid of anything, even stuff they haven't touched in years. Had to make some deals – they could keep whatever fit in their rooms, but common areas stayed clear. Also established a rule: if you bring something new into the house, something old has to go. Helped prevent us from just accumulating everything all over again.
Started being way more careful about what we bought. Before, if something was on sale, we'd grab it without thinking much about whether we actually needed it. Now I ask myself: where will this go? Do we have something that already does this job? Will we actually use it or just add it to a pile somewhere? Sounds simple, but it's amazing how much money you don't spend when you actually think before buying.
The financial impact was bigger than expected. Not just from buying less stuff, but from being more organized with what we had. Stopped buying duplicate tools because I couldn't find the ones I already owned. Quit losing bills and important papers, which meant no more late fees. Found gift cards we'd forgotten about, returned stuff we'd never used while it was still returnable.
Tools and work equipment got the same treatment. Kept the high-quality stuff I used regularly, got rid of the cheap duplicates and broken items I was never going to fix. My work became more efficient because I knew exactly what I had and where it was. Customers noticed too – when you show up organized and professional, they trust you more.
Food was another area where we were wasting money and creating clutter. Refrigerator was packed with expired stuff, pantry had duplicate items because we forgot what we already had. Started meal planning and actually using what we bought before buying more. Cut our grocery bill by about twenty percent just by not wasting food.
The interesting thing is how much mental energy all that stuff was taking up. Even when I wasn't actively thinking about it, there was this background stress of knowing everything was disorganized. Papers to sort through, boxes to deal with someday, clothes that needed to go through and organize. Getting rid of all that freed up mental space for things that actually mattered.
Had some setbacks along the way. Christmas and birthdays still bring an influx of stuff, and not all of it fits with keeping things simple. Kids get gifts they're excited about for a week and then forget. Extended family doesn't always understand why we're trying to have less stuff – they think we're being ungrateful or strange.
Also learned that you can't force this on other people. Tried to convince my neighbors and some guys at work to try the same approach, but most weren't interested. They saw it as deprivation rather than simplification. Fair enough – everyone has to find their own way. But for us, it's made a real difference in how we live day to day.
The house stays cleaner now because there's less stuff to get messy. When everything has a specific place and there isn't much excess, picking up takes minutes instead of hours. My wife isn't constantly frustrated with clutter, the kids can actually find their stuff, and I can focus on work and family instead of managing possessions.
Three years later, we're still living this way and I can't imagine going back. Not because I'm against having things, but because I learned the difference between having what you need and just accumulating stuff for the sake of having it. Quality over quantity applies to possessions just like it does to electrical work – better to have fewer things that work well than a bunch of junk that doesn't serve any real purpose.
Larry’s a mechanic by trade and a minimalist by accident. After years of chasing stuff, he’s learning to live lighter—fixing what breaks, buying less, and appreciating more. His posts are straight-talking, practical, and proof that sustainable living doesn’t have to mean fancy products or slogans.
