It’s a container, ideally light enough that you could hold it on your lap while you look through the contents. The contents are very special because we don’t have twenty-five sentiment boxes, we just have one. The box is intensely personal. You don’t have to write notes about why something is in there, you’ll know. You’ll enjoy making it much more if you start now. Trying to put one together when you have a month to downsize will be stressful and you’ll be making snap judgments instead of listening to your heart.
It holds the essence of what makes you smile, be it a favorite shell, a letter from a beloved relative, scribbles by your 18 month old who was “writing”, a ticket to a concert or movie you loved. There might be a medal from your first race, the recipe for your wedding cake, a silly photograph of your parents goofing around at your 3rd birthday party.
Exactly the sorts of things I’m usually advising you to declutter. But these things are different because they’re so very carefully selected. They’re the highlights of a life well lived and well loved. They sum up what has given you joy in the past and still brings a smile to your face when you rediscover it.
The only prerequisite is that these things must warm your heart. We don’t stick a school report card in there so we have a something for each period of our lives. We’re not curating a chronological exhibition of your life here, we’re holding a sacred spot for reminders of cherished memories. It’s totally okay if the box is half empty. We’re not trying to fill a quota, we’re just holding space for such things.
Why should the box be able to sit on your lap? Because when you reach the ending of your days, when you’ve shed most of the possessions that bedevil you now, you can gently lift it onto your lap, open up the lid and be viscerally reminded of what a wonderful life you’ve had. Everything in there will bring a smile to your face. Its physical lightness mirrors the joy you’ll feel at the life you’ve been lucky enough to have here.
Encourage your children and your grandchildren to start making their own sentiment boxes. As they grow older, they’ll revise what’s in there, sorting out the special from the ho-hum. The discipline of fitting things into just one box will help them discern what’s truly important to them and set the foundation for awesomely lifelong decluttering skills.
At eight, they might love all their origami animals and want to cram the box full of them. That’s fine, but when the time comes later on to add something different, encourage them to sort through the box and save only their favorite animals. If they decide they’re all favorites, then they won’t be able to put the latest thing they love in there. It’s time to make some decisions not just get another box. Putting off decisions leads to 25 full-size totes stuffed with your children’s artwork. Surely it can’t all be that special?
So, what will you put in your sentiment box? It’ll be as unique as you are. It’ll be a shortcut to your memories, a way to remind yourself of how rich your life has been. It’ll evolve over time as you sort through it periodically, adding new things, removing things which have become stale and unspecial to you. A source of fun to make and a pleasure to review, a way to honor the part of you that sometimes feels as if you’re throwing out your memories when you declutter an item you’ve had for a long time. A sentiment box is a microcosm of your life, a thing of beauty, a joy forever. And it’s all yours.