Decluttering Guilt: You Don’t Have to Find the Perfect Home for Everything
I was baking challah last week and started thinking about the little olive-sized piece of dough we separate.
Today, we separate it and dispose of it. But there was a time when challah was actually given to a kohen.
Then I got to this week’s parsha, Ki Tavo.
Ki Tavo begins with bikkurim, the first fruits that were brought to the Beit Hamikdash and given to the kohen. Later in the parsha, we read about the tithes that had to be separated and distributed to the people they were meant for.
Which brought me right back to the thought I’d had while making challah.
I started trying to imagine the wife of the kohen making a meal plan for the week without knowing what was going to arrive.
Can you imagine?
“What are we having for dinner?”
“How should I know? Nobody has dropped anything off yet.”
Now, historically, Mrs. Kohen was not receiving a million olive-sized pieces of challah dough. The amount separated when challah was actually given to a kohen was larger than the little piece we separate today.
But I was standing in my kitchen holding my little piece of dough, feeling sad about wrapping it up to throw it away. Picturing that in my head made me laugh, and it also got me thinking about something much bigger:
Not everything that comes into your possession is meant to stay in your possession.
Why is it so hard to let go of something that is still useful?
This comes up all the time when people are decluttering.
You’ve decided you don’t need something anymore.
But it’s perfectly good, you paid money for it, and someone really could use it.
Maybe your sister would want it.
Maybe there’s an organization that could really use it.
Maybe you spent $200 on it, so donating it feels ridiculous. You decide to sell it instead.
For $200, naturally, even though it’s used and five years old.
And apparently nobody on Facebook Marketplace has received the memo that you would like your $200 back.
None of those thoughts are unreasonable.
But they can leave an object sitting in your house for another six months. Or two years.
The decision may be made, but the job isn’t finished until the thing actually leaves.
Do you need to find the perfect home for everything you declutter?
No.
There’s a difference between getting rid of something responsibly and making yourself responsible for finding the ideal future for every object you own.
If you know exactly who you want to give something to, great. Give it to them.
Make the call. Send the message. Arrange the pickup. Put it in the car. Finish the job.
If you want to sell something, sell it. But take depreciation into account and decide how much time and effort you are willing to put into getting that money back.
(FYI, it’s OK to donate something and pass your blessing onto someone else. G-d will find a way to get that money back to you.)
If you want to donate it, find a place that can reasonably use it and donate it.
All of those can be reasonable choices, but at some point finding the “right home” for an object becomes a way to avoid letting it go.
Sometimes, while we’re working so hard to make sure something doesn’t go to waste, it is doing exactly that.
Sitting in our house. Unused. Going to waste.
The story about terumah and the Haifa Zoo
There’s a story I had heard years ago about Rav She’ar Yashuv Cohen, the former Chief Rabbi of Haifa.
It involved terumah and the Haifa Zoo.
I recently wanted to make sure I wasn’t repeating one of those Jewish stories that gets better and better every time somebody tells it, so I asked around.
A friend of mine knows Rav Cohen’s daughter and checked with her.
She confirmed the basic story.
During the shiva after her father died, people from the zoo came to have her sign paperwork as his heir so they could continue using terumah to feed the animals. She remembered that there was some kind of ownership arrangement involving her father, although she didn’t know the circumstances under which it had originally been set up.
Terumah has restrictions on who may eat it. Today, because we are not in a state of ritual purity, terumah that is separated from Israeli produce generally cannot simply be eaten by a kohen.
But there are circumstances in which terumah suitable for animal feed may be fed to animals belonging to a kohen.
So rather than let food that could still be used go to waste, there was a way to get it somewhere it could serve a purpose.
In this case, the zoo.
Something useful did not have to waste away because its original use was no longer possible. It went somewhere it could be used.
We have a version of this problem in our homes all the time.
The dishes you don’t use.
The clothes that don’t fit.
The toys your children have outgrown.
The appliance you replaced.
The books you finished years ago.
They may not be useful to you anymore, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t useful.
And this is where people can fall into a trap. Either we keep things we aren’t using because they’re still perfectly good, or we decide we can’t let them go until we’ve found exactly the right person or place to give them to.
But that isn’t our job.
Our job is to make a reasonable, responsible decision and get the thing somewhere it has a chance to be used instead of letting it sit in our homes taking up space and remaining our responsibility.
I’ve written before about The Importance of Donating for exactly this reason. Passing something along gives it the opportunity to be useful somewhere else instead of continuing to take up space in your home.
But what if I really do know the right person for it?
Then give it to her.
This isn’t an argument for throwing everything into the nearest donation bin because you can’t be bothered.
You are responsible for what you choose to keep and for how you let go of what you don’t.
If your niece genuinely needs the baby clothes, save them for her. Then make sure she gets them, if she even wants them!
If your synagogue is collecting something specific, wonderful. Bring it over.
If an organization has told you it can use the furniture, arrange the pickup.
The problem starts when the plan never turns into action.
“I’m saving that for Sarah” is not a completed task if Sarah has never been told, doesn’t want it, or lives three states away and the box has been in your guest room since 2024.
The object is still in your house.
It is still taking up your space.
It is still your responsibility.
What Ki Tavo made me think about
The Torah doesn’t only talk about separating what is supposed to go elsewhere.
Later in the parsha, the person makes a declaration that includes the fact that the consecrated portion has actually been cleared from the house and given to the people who are supposed to receive it.
The obligation wasn’t finished because the person knew what belonged to someone else.
It had to get there.
I am not suggesting that your donation pile is ma’aser. It isn’t.
But the distinction between knowing and doing feels very familiar.
How many things in your house are already mentally gone?
The bag for donation.
The library books.
The dishes for your cousin.
The returns.
The thing you borrowed.
The box someone said she wanted six months ago.
You know they’re leaving.
They haven’t left.
Where does your responsibility end?
Knowing what is yours to manage, doing that part, and letting G-d manage the rest is a big part of faith.
You should make a responsible decision.
You should not donate garbage and make somebody else dispose of it.
You should follow an organization’s donation rules.
You should return things you borrowed.
You should make a reasonable effort to get something to the person you promised it to.
But you do not need to control the entire future of everything you give away.
Just like we have to trust that G-d will always give us what we need, we can trust that He can get it where it needs to go.
How do you actually get decluttered things out of the house?
Step 1: Decide where it’s going
You don’t need the perfect destination. You need a reasonable one.
If you know the person you want to give it to, ask if she actually wants it.
If you want to sell it, decide on a realistic price and how long you’re willing to wait for it to sell.
If you want to donate it, choose an organization that can use it.
Step 2: Get it ready to leave
Bag the donations.
Box up what you’re giving away.
Pack the return.
Take the pictures and list the item you want to sell.
Do whatever needs to happen so that the thing is actually ready to walk out the door.
Step 3: Put it on the calendar
This is the part that doesn’t happen by itself.
Choose when you’re making the donation run or schedule the pickup.
Put the return in the car before the day you’re going to the store.
Arrange when the person you’re giving something to is actually going to get it.
If you’re selling something, give yourself a deadline.
Step 4: Don’t put it off
Follow through on the date you put on the calendar.
If someone is supposed to pick something up, make sure the pickup actually happens.
If you gave yourself a deadline to sell something, manage the deadline. Lower the price, donate it, or decide on the next step when that date arrives.
Don’t keep extending the deadline because you’re still hoping for the perfect outcome.
Until the handoff actually happens, it is still yours to manage.
So maybe the question isn’t, “What else should I get rid of?”
Maybe it’s: What is already in your house that you know isn’t yours to keep managing?
Pick one thing you’ve already decided about.
Get it where it’s supposed to go.
Want less stuff to rehome later?
Bring less stuff home in the first place.
I know. Very profound.
But everything you bring into your house becomes something you are responsible for.
You have to store it. Maintain it. Move it. Make decisions about it.
Eventually, you may need to figure out how to get rid of it.
Being more intentional about what comes in means fewer things you’ll eventually have to figure out how to send back out.
Future you will be thrilled.
When you already know what needs to leave
Sometimes you don’t need another decision.
You need 55 minutes, some accountability, and a reason to finally do it.
That is a perfectly good project to bring to Tidy Together.
Use the session to bag donations, box up the things you’re giving away, prepare returns, arrange pickups, post the things you genuinely intend to sell, or finally get everything into the car.
If you’ve never tried Tidy Together before, you can try it for $1. The introductory trial is available once per person and once per household.
Already tried Tidy Together and ready for another session?
Because the goal isn’t simply to decide that something no longer belongs in your home.
Eventually, it has to leave.