Clear your Clutter - Manifest your dreams. Birgit Medele

it now makes someone else’s life complete. The only thing missing in their brand new flat was an oversized foliage plant. We are free as a bird and the new owners will inundate our ex with all the water and love it could wish for. We all live happily ever after.

      In times when goods are plenty, the habit of ‘waste not’ becomes a burden. While allegedly worrying about ‘squandering’ coffee-table books or designer jackets, we try to float away from responsibility on an unfit raft made of cardboard and leather. Occupying ourselves with clutter-shifting-DIY brings welcome distraction from more serious waste: that of lifetime. How disheartening for the brand new day if all we use it for is to get through it, somehow, just about. Time does not want to be killed. The most heartbreaking waste lies beyond the world of objects, in frittering away another month, making ourselves at home in the weeks as if the next dawn was guaranteed forever. How about no longer pouring down the drain those potential joys we could experience but do not allow ourselves to? Apparently one of the most common regrets is “I wish that I had let myself be happier.”

      What we do does not matter all that much; it is about how we go through our day. How do we want to unwrap this one-of-a-kind morning? No more overlooking the misty magic of white fog clinging to treetops. Noticing how the wind is playing catch with leaves. Joining in, humming along to the gorgeously bright sparkling Song of Now.

      Act out inner rebellion

      Anyone who grew up with tidying as a punishment might end up equating mess with freedom. Contrary to art studio clichés however, creativity does not thrive in permanent chaos. After the brilliant idea has been born it has to rely on its down-to-earth cousins, discipline and organisation to stay alive, to manifest successfully and to turn into visible genius.

      Our parents might have passed away a long time ago, but we are still sitting in our bedroom (that has turned into a flat by now), triumphantly defiant “I am not tidying up!” We can scatter stuff wherever we like; this is our place after all. We employ mess to get our own back and have gone to the barricades as some sort of time warped opposition against carers who used to invade our room to ‘tidy up’. As in, dared to mess around with our things and therefore with us, violating both our sanctuary and our privacy.

      A bit of a mess can also come in handy to demonstrate to those who live with us that they never help out. Without our saintly efforts, chaos would take over in no time. Perhaps we feel left alone with the responsibilities we are burdened with, that nobody seems to take off our shoulders or at least helps us carry. While living together we feel all alone.

      Alternatively, disorganisation can be a means to keep people away. Perhaps we shared a home with flatmates or a partner before, but somehow stuff got in the way. Single’s homes often have literally no space left for a potential companion and their belongings. Couples who remary later in life often end up staying in their respective homes as they cannot bring themselves to let go of their surroundings in order to move on and move in together.

      Clutter as an outward SOS of pain inside can result from having to hang our hat on a lone perch. One client who lived by herself said, “When my sister shouts at me because of the mess, I feel as if at least someone cares.”

      In the short term we might delight in this ‘rebellion’, but sooner or later it becomes tainted by the fact that we no longer enjoy residing among piles. We dream of entertaining once we have sorted the place out. We might even go to the lengths of avoiding our home, putting in extra long hours at the office, filling the diary to the brim, stopping by for bed and breakfast and off again.

      At work we create sophisticated paper sculptures on the desk to demonstrate to ourselves, our colleagues and the world at large just how busy we are. Paper pile lighthouses send out blinking signals: we would not mind the odd word of acknowledgement for our efforts, praise even, every now and again. Unfortunately the message gets lost in translation and others misinterpret our dishevelled desk space as lack of efficiency or expertise.

      Organising is not about waving goodbye to spontaneity and funky fun and sticking colour coordinated labels on everything that cannot run away fast enough. It is about keeping the chaos that so relentlessly tries to invade our life at bay. Staying on top of our agenda means that we can afford time to recharge and award ourselves much needed breaks from chores that raise their ugly heads as soon as we try to sit down for a cuppa. Life does not have to consist of the same old, same old day after day. A mini-clearout is like an upgrade from mere functioning; we get to fly through the day feeling truly alive, marvelling at those wonders we call clouds and creepy crawlies. If we stay in control of our diary, we create space for the unexpected and discover opportunities for growth in between the chores, even in the chores.

      Everybody deserves an inspiring living and working environment. Being organised does not give us a life sentence as the nerdy fusspot or tedious bore, stuck in repetitive habits, forever straightening checkered table cloths and brushing off invisible crumbs. Organising works without doilies and net curtains, without ceilings caving in on daily vacuumed shag pile rugs.

      Getting rid of a mess is uplifting because, excuse the pun, being in messes depresses. Getting our act together and tying up loose ends brings clarity to our homes and our lives. Once we stop running away and face our clutter we can create a home that fills us with strength and joy, where every coming home is a home coming. Where we can bake soul pancakes, rest, relax and get the odd holiday vibe just from boarding the sofa. Where we can take off or come down as we wish, redirecting the energy of our rebelliousness to causes far more worthy than clutter.

      Welcome to outer space!

      Keep options open

      The camping experience can be conveniently recreated at home, without a stove or air mattress in sight. Stopping short of pitching a tent, a house can look as if the campers have just moved in or are about to move out, even though the dwellers have lived at this address for years.

      Light bulbs are dangling from the ceiling just until suitable lamp shades have been located. Curtains and blinds are still waiting for their turn to be ticked off the to-do-list. ‘Home-campers’ never make a home for themselves and they are not sure why. It might be the dim feeling that they do not deserve a more charming environment or the subliminal fear that making themselves at home would be equal to getting stuck permanently in this apartment, city or relationship. For the time being, until a perfect solution has been found, they make do. And suddenly another two years have disappeared into thin air.

      Sometimes we avoid committing ourselves for fear of missing out on something better. Settling on one residence implies rejecting others. If we keep sitting on the fence, the ‘Happy Ending’ might ring the doorbell tomorrow. One client resented her apartment for not being situated in the beloved French Provence, but in a particularly uneventful town in Britain. Even if we approve of the where, we might resist the how. The current abode is not the longed for mortgaged property but ‘only’ a rented one; ground floor instead of penthouse; no garden; garden too small, too large, too green, not green enough, too overlooked and not south-west facing. ‘Home-campers’ know deep down that they will not stay forever, so why bother. The apartment block might be due a major overhaul at some point, or the neighbours do not live up to expectations. There are worries about catchment areas or commuting or some other concern we can make up as we bumble along through life. Campers refuse to tie themselves down. Maybe they have had to follow a job or a partner but would rather be settled somewhere else, thank you very much. They feel a need to keep their options open.

      Here is the bad news: as long as we refuse to make ourselves at home in our own home; as long as we do not drop anchor, at least temporarily; we will stay stuck. We need foundations in order to move on; the future refuses to be built on wobbly makeshift arrangements.

       “I moved into my flat ten years ago and was convinced that I wouldn’t be there long as I was ultimately looking to move into a house. I never purchased proper storage such as extra shelves or cupboards, most of my belongings lived in large plastic boxes and I didn’t worry about decorating or