My previous blog post, On How Cleaning out the Basement isn’t About the Cleaning–– Or the Basement , was about the what can be learned–– and accepted and respected–– about ourselves from the stuff that fills the basements of our physical and mental lives.

 (A note of apology for my coming overuse of the word “stuff.” I think it appropriate here as the word stands in for all individual items that have become so overwhelming as to lose their meaning, specificity and usefulness and become a generic blob much less than the sum of the parts.)

 Now it is time to leave the world of metaphorical basements and enter into the real world of actual basements, and piles, and collections, and general content and volume that has gotten out of the comfort zone. Let us step away from what the stuff signifies, though I think accepting the totality of the stuff means accepting the totality of who we are, which ought to grant us a healthier way to look at said stuff. So, let’s say you have accepted and respected the stuff and have realized you have internalized all the parts of you that that stuff represents and therefore do not need the actual stuff any longer, or not as much of it. Yay! That is a very positive move!

 Now, the idea is to think about dealing with the “stuff.” And how difficult that is, when faced with the hugeness of the job. Unfathomably huge. Physically huge. Mentally huge. Emotionally huge. Financially huge. Huge in so many ways the mind boggles and finally shuts down. And the hand shuts the basement door and turns away. Raise your hand if you have the equivalent of a haunted basement, a floor, or a room, or a drawer, or a purse, or a box that is so scary you pretend you can’t see it and if you can’t see it it must not exist because that is the only way you can get up in the morning without freaking out? My hand is raised for sure!

 But every so often, for me, when the sun shines and the air warms and the cool of the basement isn’t off-putting, an idea takes hold. If only for a moment, the idea whispers, “It’s time.” The brain responds, “Are you kidding me? Have you seen this basement? It’s scary down there!”

 But the idea smiles a bit, and down we go.

 If you read the last blog post, then you already know this basement is beyond the dreams of a little sunny day optimistic idea, right? Wrong! Huh? How?

 By asking for less and celebrating more. By seeing each hoarded saved item as a drop in a bucket. But–– you know this, I know this––that messy ole’ basement bucket–– or drawer or purse or box or corner–– that was filled a drop at a time can also be emptied a drop at a time! And that is a perfectly valid approach. Any approach that moves you even the tiniest bit forward is a valid approach.

 Often, it feels that if you don’t make significant progress you haven’t made any progress at all. But, by dealing with even one thing, or one part of one thing, space is made in the room and in the brain, space to move forward in time, place and attitude. Subtle shifts forward add up and are actually grand! Nothing big changes without the little parts of that big thing changing first.

 I’ll say that again: Nothing big changes without the little parts of that big thing changing first. So do NOT let anyone tell you you haven’t done enough!

 More self-congratulatory pats are called for with every drop in the bucket dealt with. Try saying thank you to the things (shout out to Marie Kondo), thank you to all the brainwork and effort and love and enthusiasm that led to the existence of the things in your life, and thank you to seeing the beauty–– and importance–– in every drop.

 We can–– we must–– celebrate the little accomplishments precisely because they don’t seem like the things that should be celebrated. But we would get a big old nowhere without them. Thank you.