I sit on my bedroom floor wondering if I can complete the challenge I have set myself to declutter my life during February; since I am only on Day 8 of this 28 day challenge I may need to reconsider the rules if I want to succeed.

I only have myself to blame. This is what comes of listening to woo woo podcasts in the car. This time the podcaster is a minimalist who is extolling the virtues of decluttering your life and, since I have a very small cottage which is juxtaposed to a very soft heart that delights in retaining too many keepsakes, I feel that this nugget of advice may need my attention.

The podcaster advises that I should make my decluttering fun (he is clearly speaking directly to me) and shares a game where you shed one item on day 1 of the month, two items on day 2… you get the picture..until you are living in a spacious environment – that is, if you can crawl to the month end. I like a challenge, I am usually very good at emptying my bank account each month and February is a short month.

I start well.

• Day 1: I take an unworn coat off its hanger and the pile has started.
• Day 2: I say an emotional goodbye to two moth-eaten jumpers that have seen me through rough times.
• Day 3: I have been meaning to shed books for a while, so I start attacking one of my four bookcases and manage to gift three books which all appear to have a duplicate on the shelf.
• Day 4: I am feeling confident and intend to part with another four books but I make a rookie error and dip into one well-thumbed tome – two hours later I am still reading. This book goes back on the shelf. I add a sock that has consciously uncoupled from its partner and reassure myself that I am still ‘in’ the challenge.
• Day 5: I ‘attack’ my ‘running drawer’ – a grandiose title for the drawer in which I cram every pair of leggings, sports bra, yoga kit and running socks that I own. The drawer does not close easily and it is the t-shirts that cause the problem.
  
  If you are a runner you will realise that these days it is rare to be gifted a commemorative t-shirt (you pay the same price for race entry, but t- shirts are not eco-friendly, so now you are lucky to receive a recycled papier mache medal and a complimentary Fair Trade banana). Consequently, although I can easily find five well worn t-shirts of yore, I cannot seem to put them onto the charity pile.
  
  Every t-shirt with an event title and date brings back memories, but ultimately it is the Helihandbags T shirt that I decide to keep. It is no longer white, I think it must have shrunk in the wash for it certainly was not this tight in 2015 when we wore it to accompany my sister through her bucket list Cardiff Half Marathon. There are not many people who will run 13.1 miles fuelled by chemo and jelly babies, but my sister was that person and her best friend and I were happy to be wearing t shirts that matched her’s. (Helihandbags on account of her obsession with matching accessories and ServeDirect because it would support her best friend’s charity of choice in Uganda ).
  
  I decide to return the Helihandbags t-shirt to the drawer and replace it with my Moon Walk dragonfly – decorated bra. I then realise that, although this item has been draped across my bedroom chair since last summer and – although it is unlikely ever to be worn in public again – it is a nostalgic reminder of walking a midnight marathon through the streets of London with my best friend. I will never forget those conversations. Like the Helihandbags t-shirt, it needs to stay.
  (If you can stomach an old blog – Full Moon nostalgia here:)
  https://thedragonflyjar.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=6702&action=edit
  
  I dip back into my bookshelves and find another book to donate.
  
• Day 6: My donations comprise two pairs of manky running trainers; a set of dragonfly fairy lights (actually not gifted to the pile but taken into my office at school (which surely counts as out of the house); a random furry headband that felt on-trend when travelling to Norway (a theory later disproved when I saw the photos) and two cook books that have not seen the light of day during the last ten years.
• Day 7: Himself points out that it would be cheating to ask him to store items in his car on the pretext of asking for their return at the end of the month. I sulk for a while and then rummage through my old make up drawer. It is amazing how many half-used bottles of nail varnish and congealed mascara that I seem to have kept for a rainy day.
  
  Himself decides that this is the moment to address my tendency to bulk buy items as a security blanket. I have written before about my need to always have a spare toilet roll in the house (not a digestive issue, but a throw back to my father always packing a spare in the suitcase for a family holiday) but perhaps have not ‘fessed up to a similar approach to spare running shoes, shower gel and coffee. ‘You are not likely to be under siege at any time in the near future,’ Himself points out, ‘and there is a Co-Op just down the road’.
  
  It is all very well for him to live life on the edge, but I am not so risk averse. I protest that he is exaggerating, but he silently walks to the fridge to point out the five packs of goats cheese I have accumulated. I agree that there should only be three packs. ‘I had a moment of anxiety in the supermarket and could not remember what stocks remained at home; I took the precaution of buying in a dairy buffer’, I explain.
  
• Day 8: I realise that February suddenly looms in front of me like the longest January ever. I tell myself that I am still in this challenge but as I sit on my bedroom floor I feel I am bending the rules when I start to count out eight old hair grips.
  
  I become distracted by a facebook photo of my sister’s best friend and husband setting back off to ServeDirect’s school in Uganda, their suitcases crammed full of pre-loved clothes, old tech and books for the students. It reminds me of leading a Sixth Form school trip to take students to work in schools in Kenya. On the last day of the expedition our students decided to bin their half-used toiletries and broken items, believing all these items to have no value; they also wanted to ‘travel light’ and stock up on Duty Free. As we left the village for the airport I remember seeing a delighted Kenyan school girl waving our bus an excited goodbye as she brandished a broken hand mirror she must have scavenged from the campsite bins. Humbling.

I will keep going on this challenge – do let me know if you are short of books or nail varnish. As vacuous as it sounds, it does feel like I am creating a little more space in my life, and I hope that my discarded clutter may make someone else very happy. At this point in my journey I will still feel more grounded if I can keep a spare toilet roll in my cupboard or suitcase but I will do this to honour my memory of dad. Sitting on my bedroom floor I realise that I value people more than things and I will need to think of someone who might relish a spare goats cheese – or two.

I will continue to defrag, but I also intend to get back in touch with ‘my’ podcaster. Love his gamification to create spaciousness, but also need to feedback that there is absolutely no need to be minimalist about the memories that are worth feeling nostalgic about.