Why the House Burnt: a lesson in decluttering.

Warm living room corner with a lamp on and a blanket on the sofa

Life has a way of teaching us through things we didn’t ask for. I used to think decluttering was clearing cupboards and making space for new things. But sometimes the things we hold onto become heavier than we realise — and occasionally, the universe gives us a dramatic nudge to let go. Years ago, a toaster stopped working. Instead of throwing it away, I placed it aside with the innocent thought: maybe we can fix it. I bought a replacement, moved on with life, and the old one stayed — like a quiet sentence waiting for an ending.

One day, that unfinished decision came back to me as a lesson I never expected: the house caught fire.

At the time, I was a single mum of two young kids, studying, paying rent bit by bit, and trying to stretch every pound. I didn’t have home contents insurance. I was behind on rent. I was trying to make it through each week. Sometimes when I look back, I’m not sure whether I survived by strength or pure stubborn hope.

After the fire, what surprised me wasn’t only the damage — it was everything that resurfaced. Seeing the freezer door in the corridor, far from the kitchen, made me realise how far-reaching the consequences are when we delay decisions. The things we hold onto physically often mirror the clutter we carry mentally: fear, guilt, unfinished seasons, “just in case” thinking.

I learned that decluttering isn’t just about getting rid of things. It’s about releasing what we’re done carrying, so we don’t burn ourselves out holding onto it.

These days, I’m letting go slowly — starting with my mind before my cupboards. Not perfectly. Not quickly. But intentionally.

Reflection: What’s one decision you’ve postponed that’s quietly taking up space in your mind or heart?

Sometimes naming it is the first act of release.