Do you think you have too much stuff?

I do, and I’d like to do something about it.

The children my wife and I raised are off to college and living elsewhere. That leaves my wife and I in a house that’s way too big for us. We don’t use all of this space, but we have items to fill the closets and corners, furniture to fill up each room and more than enough framed items to cover the walls.

Frankly, it’s too much stuff.

I have binders filled with my son’s school art work from 4K-through high school. I’ve kept every report card, certificate, event program… Why have I not purged this?

Well, you could call me lazy, but I saved these things for a reason. I thought someday, Derek, for instance, might want it. That turns out to be wrong. He packed up the stuff he wanted when he moved into his apartment at college this summer. He wasn’t interested in lugging around his keepsake box filled with scores of wrestling, baseball and hockey medals. He left behind the framed pictures that covered his bedroom walls in high school.

He even left behind his Army Achievement Medal and his share of Green Bay Packers stock.

While my wife and I raised our children, I don’t think either of us signed up for being the timeless caretakers of their worldly possessions.

The time has come to make some changes.

This is not nearly as easy as it would seem because, like with many families, our family has had its share of heartache. My wife’s oldest son died in a prom-night car crash when he was 17. There was no alcohol involved, just kids driving too fast on a dangerous road. Nathan and another passenger died, while two others survived.

My wife has carefully preserved many of Nathan’s possessions. How do you possibly let go of these things? I don’t have an answer for that and I’m not about to tell my wife what I think should stay or go.

It isn’t just the children’s possessions that take up space. My wife and I both have hobbies — some of which we practice regularly and some of which have become dormant. For example, I used to golf twice a week. Now I golf three times a year. I possess enough golf clubs to outfit four players for tournament. That’s just too much.

I have kept totes of my personal science-fiction collection, clothing, other memorabilia … I have enough blaze orange clothing packed away of different sizes to dress an army of hunters. It’s not just my stuff, but also things my dad has given me. He had an enormous fishing tackle outfit from his days as a regular visitor to Lake of the Woods. I’ve given some of this fishing tackle to other family members and my son, but a good deal of it still remains — including lures that belonged to my great-grandfather.

It’s easy for me to see that purging items isn’t just a matter of getting a dumpster and throwing things away. Instead, I’ve got to carefully go through items, making sure I remove rare gems from the flotsam and jetsam.

And this careful sifting takes precious time that I’m reluctant to set aside. However, I feel like I’ve reached a critical mass where the continual caretaking of these possessions is cluttering both my living space and my brain.

I’ve read quite a bit about minimalism and watched a few documentaries about it and it looks fascinating to me.

Minimalism is ridding yourself of items you no longer need. It isn’t something that can happen perfectly or instantly, but it’s something someone works on over time until they’re comfortable with the number of possessions they have and manage.

Some minimalists possess very few things. I don’t think a hard-core minimalist could live in a rural place with four distinct seasons. Minimalism lends itself to living in a place where a limited wardrobe is suitable, shopping is abundant and technology is rapid and free from frequent failure.

One practice I’ve read about that seems fascinating to me is some people wear the exact same style of clothes every day. For example, they will have five sets of the same work clothes and rotate through them, wearing clean clothes, but not changing their appearance. This, supposedly, takes the mental challenge out of trying to decide on what to wear. I think the benefit truly is in shopping, where a person would only have to buy multiple versions of one outfit.

Much of this discussion comes to my mind because my wife and I are still trying to transition our lives to being empty-nesters. I’m certain there will be tough decisions to make and we may side with keeping some things rather than letting them go. We can’t keep everything, but we can keep the most meaningful of things, and that may be the best plan on how to approach this life-changing process.

— Matt Johnson is publisher of the Monroe Times.