It started the day I couldn’t find my big beige knickers. I knew they were in my smalls drawer somewhere, along with all the other manky old favourites. It was time to muck out my underwear. It felt good. So I moved on to socks, nighties, jumpers, the pruning-the-roses t-shirts… I simply couldn’t stop.
With no clear idea why, over the next three months I systematically swept through the whole house, sorting, ditching, burning and giving away so much stuff, we echoed. I was on a high, it was like shedding a skin. For the first time ever I looked at everything and asked: Do I love it? Do I need it? Do I use it? And if not, why am I holding on to it? I ditched anything that had even the merest hint of negative association, muttering ‘Just because I’ve always had it, doesn’t mean I have to keep it.’
Isn’t Feng Shui daft woo-woo claptrap?
One day, on my knees chucking out paperbacks, I found a book someone had given me on Feng Shui. I’d never read it: Isn’t Feng Shui daft woo-woo claptrap, I thought? But as I flicked through it, something caught my eye: The first rule of Feng Shui is to declutter, so energy can flow around the house and you can always find your big beige knickers…