The Rat that Helped me Clean Up my Past

The Rat that Helped me Clean Up my Past

It’s been six days since I last saw the rat. A month ago, the pesky rodent invaded my home and nearly cost me my sanity. Its intrusion violated my private space, and I longed for the day when I would never again see its disgusting shape nor smell its horrible smell again.

But looking back now, even though I was furious when it happened, I’m grateful for the rat invasion. It finally motivated me to clean up the temporary storage area. It had been a year since our last major renovations, and the stuff in storage had been sitting there untouched for so long that the rat found the place cushy and decided to make a nest.

I’m still pissed that I wasn’t able to rat-proof our home, even if I thought about everything. But post-renovations, it’s normal to find out all sorts of things, like a possible rat entrance hole.

Despite trying all sorts of traps and poison, I couldn’t get rid of the rat on my own. At my wit’s end, I called in professional help from my friend Gerry, who runs a construction company. His crew located the possible entry point for the rat and patched it up. They also did a general cleaning of the storage area and helped me move out all the heavy objects. Finally, they assured me that they had rat-proofed the house.

After the workers left and my home was rat-free again, I realized my excuses for not organizing the space were nonsense. If I really wanted to organize it, I would have done months ago when the renovations ended. But the truth is, I have a lot of junk. It’s not just me; it’s me, my Lego-collecting husband, and my two kids. And not only that, organizing is psychologically laborious.

I’ve read that cleaning your junk up forces you to confront your past. Doing so might stir up regrets. Not only that, throwing things away can cause anxiety about the future.

“Do I really need this?”

“I’ve outgrown this.”

“Buying this was a bad idea, in hindsight.”

“What if I throw this away and need it tomorrow?”

The rat invasion reminded me why I’ve always been drawn to minimalism. Because I had to forcibly sort through our belongings and decide what to throw away and what to keep, I realized how much I wanted to implement minimalism. However, given our different values and attitudes towards material possessions, I must do so in a realistic and sustainable way for the family. If it were just me, I would have implemented Swedish Death Cleaning.

I first encountered the concept of minimalism in 2010 or 2012 when I stumbled upon the book Simplify Your Life: 100 Ways to Slow Down and Enjoy the Things That Really Matter by Elaine St. James. The book struck a chord with me because its central message, to simplify life by reducing choice paralysis, resonated with me. I believe that a minimalist lifestyle can help me live life consciously and intentionally. Additionally, there are pragmatic reasons for adopting a minimalist lifestyle, such as our limited space and the need to be more mindful of our spending. The aesthetic benefits of minimalism are just the cherry on top.

I deviated from minimalism a few years ago and became a semi-hoarder. I bought things impulsively and without reflection, driven by anxiety and a materialistic coping mechanism. I thought I would feel more secure if I had more things. But I was wrong. I became a Prisoner of Clutter.

Last year, we had home renovations, and I said, “After this is over, I’ll finally have the chance to get more organized!” But here I am, one year later, with some balikbayan boxes yet unpacked. The rat intrusion was the impetus for the change I needed.

I have mostly unpacked and sorted out the necessary things we need as a family, but I’m stuck with the rest. Until last week, I avoided dealing with these objects because I didn’t know how to. I didn’t budge, and neither did they from their musty compartments.

Even though I sometimes kid myself that it’s okay to have too much stuff, it really isn’t. Now that I’m in the last leg of cleaning up and sorting through all the baggage of my kids’ childhood years, I feel a sense of freedom on the horizon. I can almost taste the liberty of living a more intentional, less materialistic life.

I’ve realized that my bad habit of associating things with permanence and symbolism led to overbuying and, gradually, hoarding. It’s because I can’t let go of emotional baggage from the past. But decluttering my home and my life is helping me to let go of the past, finally.

I look forward to saying goodbye to my kids’ childhood and embracing my new identity as a mature 40-plus-year-old career woman. I am also excited about the publication of my upcoming book and the next phase of my marriage, where we can grow old together.

So, if you’re stuck like me sometimes, don’t worry too much about getting unstuck. Life with kids is unpredictable. Heck, life is pretty unpredictable. It took a rat invasion for me to finally get a move on, but maybe that was what I needed, even though I didn’t ask for or expect it.