Finding new homes for all your possessions can be a beautiful exploration of memory and meaning.
I love this concept and started a process of death decluttering for myself about 18 months ago (no I’m not dying soon), shortly before I started as a palliative and end-of-life counsellor in aged care.
What is it?
Death decluttering is the process of going through all your possessions and deciding who you would like to pass them on to, or whether they’re of any use to anyone. It’s about locating anything you wouldn’t want anyone else to find, like letters from former lovers or personal diaries, and making the decision to destroy them so no-one else has to. It means formally handing over things you feel are important for future generations, so there’s no mystery about your intentions for them.
Death decluttering isn’t the same as minimalism. It’s not going through your belongings and asking which ones spark joy as Marie Kondo, Japanese author of The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, advises people do. It’s not simplifying your life so you can focus on meaningful adventures for many more years in the future, as demonstrated by the American creators of the award-winning Netflix documentary Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things. Both approaches can help with the process of letting go, but death decluttering is something more.
While minimalism focuses on making life easier for your own years ahead, death decluttering is about making life easier for those you leave behind. I found the book The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning by artist Margareta Magnusson to be particularly helpful. She suggests ways to handle sensitive conversations and outlines steps you can take so that you enjoy the process of death decluttering, instead of feeling overwhelmed by it.
Why do it?
Through my work, I’ve seen the pain felt by surviving family members who have had to go through mountains of things their loved one left behind. Just when they were trying to process their own grief, they had to surmount the practical details of packing a life away. Or, if they didn’t have the space for those possessions, or the time to sort through them, they gave them away at a time when they really weren’t ready to do so.
My experience
When I read about how to approach the process, I started death decluttering for myself. I don’t need to downsize, and I’m not anticipating any sudden life changes, but I do have a young family and a lovely old dog, and the thought of simplifying our life together was hugely appealing.
The main areas of focus for me were my wardrobe, kitchen items and bathroom junk. As I worked through each area, a few things happened.
First, I was struck by how much I had accumulated, such a clutter of things that were largely more burdensome than helpful.
Second, I noticed how I had come to own things that I did not like or value. In fact, some of the things I owned were at odds with my values. Johann Hari, in his book Lost Connections, coined the phrase ‘junk values’ to reference all the stuff we consume that is meaningless, but we think is important because advertising tells us that it is. I had bought according to junk values.
Third, it felt amazing to declutter. I felt lighter, fuller, less overwhelmed and rather satisfied.
Further, it felt undeniably good to know that if I suddenly or slowly died, my family would not be left with a legacy of junk.
When is the right time?
The simple answer is: the time you have available now. Trying to manage the process when you’re under pressure to downsize or in distress because of illness or loss, will only add pressure to your situation. As Margareta Magnusson says in her book, it will be a burden for anyone who has to do it. But if you do it for yourself, it can be a cathartic and beautiful way to address the memories your possessions hold and the meanings you derive from them.
