Are you suffering from chronic stuffing? I think it would surprise most of us to realise just how much stuffing actually goes on in our lives. We tend to live in an age where excess is the norm, and it is often difficult to decide just exactly what we *do* need in our lives, as opposed to what we're accustomed to having at our disposal.

Compulsively (and often unconsciously) stuffing clutter can be one of the most destructive aspects of our lives. Take it from me; I've just come face to face with the Stuffed Clutter Beast.

When do we learn to stuff? It's hard to say, but children are masters at stuffing. Stuff gets crammed into drawers, closets, or chests; hidden under beds or in corners; even under pillows and cushions; all to avoid the dire consequences of "You can't go out till your room is picked up!" Have you ever asked a child to show you the contents of his pockets?

However, stuffing doesn't end in childhood, or even in adolescence. In some regions, attics and basements are the norm. Other areas have the convenience of garages with second stories. When all else fails, the American people have managed to support an entire industry that exists solely to fabricate storage sheds, barns, and what have you. Then, of course, there's that lovely back room that has no other use but to serve as "the junk room."

Take a moment and think about where you store things. Is it a pleasant place? Do you enjoy entering the area? Do you immediately store things away because you know it will be a simple procedure, and you don't have to worry about anything falling on your head as you enter the room? If so, you probably don't need to read the rest of this article. If not, welcome to the club of American stuff-aholics.

I've been steadily de-cluttering for some time now, and I have a long way to go. However, my de-cluttering has been largely on the surface and has yet to go very deep. That's how I discovered I was unconsciously a stuff-aholic.

Lately I've been plagued by a creative block (I am self-employed in the creative arts), and I've been at a loss to understand what was happening. I did all of the usual things: distracted myself, treated myself to something nice, put the project on the back burner for seemingly interminable weeks . . . all to no avail.

Then I got desperate and made sure my work area was more conducive to creativity. All excess clutter was removed. New homes were found for some things; others were discarded or given away. I finished off the area with a new mug rug, a place for a candle, and a few touches of blue (which for me is a calming and inspirational colour). Then, I sat down to work.

Nothing. I distracted myself again by going and de-cluttering a totally unrelated area. Nothing. I switched projects. Nothing. Finally, I decided to try a new writing implement. Reaching into my solitary desk drawer, I discovered: chaos. No problem, I thought, as I quickly slammed the drawer! I turned to the small storage cabinet on the left, thinking I would just open a new package of my special pencils. As I opened the cabinet, an avalanche of stuffing fell out. While trying to juggle the contents of the cabinet, I rammed my shin against a milk crate full of heaven-knows-what that had been stored under my desk longer than I can remember.

Any thoughts of creativity went out the window as I began scrambling to deal with this new mess. At least 80% of this stuffed clutter was discarded; the balance was either dealt with and rearranged, or carried to the area where I have been collecting things that need further attention. The afternoon was wasted, I thought, as was the creative moment. I gave up and made myself a cup of tea.

When I returned to my desk, I noticed a feeling of calm. Slowly, I opened my drawer and my cabinet and reveled in the neatly arranged contents. I stretched my legs in newfound freedom without the interference of that bothersome milk crate. Suddenly . . . completely unbidden . . . an idea came, and grew, and flourished. My project practically wrote itself.

It is easy to attach all kinds of emotions to material objects; in this instance, I now believe that my habit of stuffing was constantly impeding my creativity. It didn't matter that the surface of things looked clear and uncluttered; what mattered were the layers beneath the surface, which I was studiously avoiding and dreading having to deal with. All of this negative energy had been expended over absolutely worthless stuff, most of which is now in the dumpster.

I challenge you to try this for yourself. Start with a drawer, a cabinet, a closet shelf, a storage box, a curio cabinet, a medicine chest, and see how you feel when it is "un-stuffed." I'd be willing to bet you'll find you have a better mental attitude about that particular area in your home, and you'll be willing to spend some time repeating the experience. Happy de-stuffing!