Happy Monday. I’m writing this while sitting on an icepack with a sore booty after completely eating it while taking my kids ice skating this weekend. It’s truly humbling to wind up flat on your ass once in awhile, especially in front of a bunch of seven-year olds who have no qualms about pointing, laughing and just straight up mocking you.


I also just finished the wonderful All the Light We Cannot See. YES FOR THE FIRST TIME. Somehow I didn’t read this masterpiece when it was all the rage and then I stumbled on it in a little free and devoured it over the past week. Have you read it? It’s simply perfect in every way.
It was also such a great inspiration for reading from my own shelves (which are packed to the gills) and from the little frees. I make my living on books so I obviously want to support all of the authors and indie bookstores so I will still be shopping there, but I am also trying to buy a lot less of EVERYTHING this year and that should probably include books (though it won’t…and Nick Aster will just have to continue to build me bookshelves).
I am, however, very serious about having less stuff, which leads me to the Swedish Death Cleaning. It’s all the rage on the TikToks.

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I turned forty-four last year, and suddenly I can't stop thinking about death. Not in a morbid way – well, maybe a little morbid – but in that distinctly middle-aged way where you realize you own far too many things and your whole damn body hurts when you try to organize them.
I’m also the mother of three young kids who seem to accumulate junk out of actual thin air. It just appears in my fucking house.
This is how I stumbled into Swedish Death Cleaning on the Tik Tok (it knows things about us….a lot of things). Swedish Death Cleaning really sounds like a Scandi metal band but is it actually the most sensible midlife crisis I could have chosen.
The Swedes, who apparently have this decluttering thing figured out along with their universal healthcare and excellent meatballs, call it "döstädning." I call it "oh my god, why do I have nineteen half-empty bottles of shampoo?" It's supposed to be about slowly decluttering your life so your kids don't have to deal with your mess when you die. I’m not dying any time soon. But there’s a real chance I could be suffocated in the mountains of clutter in my house.
Here's what nobody tells you about Swedish Death Cleaning in your forties: it's less about death and more about facing every questionable purchase you've made in the last two decades. The bridesmaid dress that you thought you might dye a different color one day? Your old belly button ring?
This is a ring that was in my belly button 25 years ago!
GONE, GONE GONE!
The juicer you bought during that one week you were convinced you'd become a wellness influencer? The stack of New Yorkers you're definitely going to read someday? They all have to go, and each one feels like a tiny funeral for your past delusions.
Here is how I tackled it with easy steps that anyone can do. I’ll be going at it all month if you want to join me. I even opened up a thread about it for subscribers here.
The process is supposed to be systematic, but I started with my closet because I can’t actually hang anything up in there any more.
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