Taming your inner hoarder
Our obsession with possessions is economically and ecologically unsustainable and is making us anxious and depressed. Worse, it’s hell when the time comes to pack up and downsize.
Our obsession with possessions is economically and ecologically unsustainable and is making us anxious and depressed.
Every time Louise Rees returned from New Zealand to her family home in Wales, her elderly mother would ask the same question: “You’ll have the dinner service, won’t you?” “A couple of times I said, ‘I’m not sure I’ve got room for it; how could I get it home?’ Then it dawned on me: my mother was brought up in a redbrick house with no money to spare. She and my dad worked tremendously hard to build a comfortable life for themselves and for us, and the dinner service was part of that. At that point, I said, ‘I’ll have it and enjoy it and use it.’ All those questions have gone away.”
From the day we leave the family home in our late teens or early twenties, whether with a hesitant goodbye or a slam of the door, we start accumulating stuff: objects of function, objects of desire, objects that somehow end up in the garage or in one of the increasingly popular storage units rented by homeowners to house their burgeoning collections of things. Recent research by Bayleys Realty shows that three-quarters of self-storage units are filled with household stuff.
By the time we decide – or are forced by circumstances – to move homes we have occupied for five or six decades into a smaller house, or a unit or a room somewhere on the spectrum of accommodation for the elderly, purging our stash of belongings presents a daunting challenge.
For as much as 6% of the population, that decluttering process is intolerable. Hoarding disorder, once regarded as part of obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), is now recognised as a psychological condition in its
Hoarding disorder usually occurs in middle or old age, but research shows such behaviour often begins during adolescence.
own right, defined by the American Psychiatric Association as “persistent difficulty in discarding or parting with possessions, regardless of their actual value”.
ANIMAL BEHAVIOUR
Hoarding is a natural tendency. Animals stockpile food for long winters or to frustrate scavengers. Archaeological investigations have found evidence of hoarding in early hunter-gatherer societies. Ancient Egyptians were buried with their possessions in the
“The simple survival motivation for collecting and keeping stuff can get distorted when there are other forces at play.”
belief that, actually, you can take it with you. But, as Christchurch psychologist Fran Vertue writes, “This simple survival motivation for collecting and keeping stuff can get distorted when there are other forces at play.”
As with other habits, she says, hoarding and collecting are on a continuum from the functional to the dysfunctional. “There is a little buzz when you buy something new that gives momentary pleasure, and there’s anxiety associated with getting rid of things when you have to. But once the buzz or the anxiety gets so big that it interferes with your life – your relationships, your ability to hold down a job or care for yourself physically – you are in trouble.”
The triggers for such behaviour are complex. Researchers point to anxiety, depression and isolation as psychological risk factors, but scientists are also looking into the mechanisms of the brain itself. Recent research has shown that hoarders struggle to make the rapid, intuitive decisions that most of us use to assign value to objects and distinguish between, say, last year’s junk mail and a moving letter from a long-lost relative.
Instead of organising objects by category, they organise them visually and spatially. Where others seen mundanity, they see beauty and purpose: every saved magazine can be read, every broken bit of china has a function, every outdated appliance deserves a good home. Researchers have noticed that such people are often highly intelligent and creative, and so can see uses for things that justify keeping them.
In their 2010 book Stuff: Compulsive Hoarding and the Meaning of Things, US psychologists Randy Frost and Gail Steketee describe hoarders as having “an intense perceptual sensitivity to visual details”, exhibiting a “special form of creativity and an appreciation for the aesthetics of everyday things”. Although diagnoses of moderate or severe hoarding disorder usually occur in middle or old age, research shows such behaviour often begins during adolescence, around ages 13 or 14.
In contrast to the negative thoughts that haunt OCD sufferers, the anxiety and distress experienced by those with hoarding problems when something has to be thrown away are balanced by feelings of joy, pleasure and even love towards their possessions. Despite the disorganised clutter in which they live, they exhibit perfectionist behaviour, refusing to dispose of a book or piece of junk mail they haven’t yet read or an object – from a broken coffee pot to a rare record – for which they haven’t yet found a use or a suitable home. Such perfectionism can be a plus – as with Rees’ mother, the desire for a caring home for a treasured possession is important for many of us – but for sufferers, it is resourcefulness run amok, endangering safety, hygiene and social relationships.
Over the past six years, Wellington City Council’s public health team has had to deal with eight cases of hoarding on private property. After the Christchurch earthquakes, Age Concern and other agencies unearthed a number of cases of extreme hoarding; in some cases, people were living in “rat-infested squalor”.
TOO MUCH STUFF
Hoarding is at the far end of a spectrum of a habit of personal acquisition that, as US trend forecaster James Wallman argues, has got way out of hand. In his 2013 book, Stuffocation, Wallman explains how, after a long history of scarcity, we have entered an era of unprecedented abundance of material possessions. Once, a man’s shirt would have cost close to $4000 in 2017 money; today, you can pick one up for about $60. Teddy bears, once a treasured possession, are given
Once, a man’s shirt would have cost close to $4000 in 2017 money; today, you can pick one up for about $60.
away by businesses. Birthday cards? Ten for a dollar. A bathroom towel? Free with Fly Buys rewards.
But our obsession with possessions, he says, is unsustainable. Not only does it make us “joyless, anxious and depressed”, but also has enormous ecological impact and mires us deeper in debt as we spend money we don’t have on things we don’t need.
“Think of stuffocation as the material equivalent to the obesity epidemic,” he says now, “and you’ll start to see the human logic behind all the happy stories of declutterers online. When you have less stuff, your house feels brighter and bigger and your life feels lighter.”
So long as there is space under the bed or in the top cupboard, we can ignore our mounting hoard of possessions. But when we need to move house or put a home on the market, the possessions accumulated over years or decades present an often overwhelming challenge. As a rare exception, Chinese buyers of luxury homes, says Auckland real estate agent Michael Boulgaris, are often keen to take the furniture and antiques, too.
For older people moving to a retirement unit or rest home, it is even harder. “You go from a family-sized home into a small room where you might be able to keep the chair you like, a few books and a painting or two,” says Rees, an Age Concern social connect adviser. “But basically nearly everything you have has to be given away, sold, put into storage – or given to people you care about who will be fond of them for your sake.”
Most of those who attend talks by Janice Willis, founder and director of professional downsize and declutter company Elderly Assist, have been in the same home for 30-40 years. “Most have bought a house with their husband or wife and raised a family, and they have not needed to
“Think of stuffocation as the material equivalent to the obesity epidemic and you’ll start to see the logic.”
declutter. It puts them off moving.”
By the time they need to downsize (or “right-size”) to a retirement unit or rest home, the job at hand is onerous. Adult children may have settled overseas or be living in their own, smaller properties; the shed or attic may be full to bursting – often, says Boulgaris, with stuff belonging to children and grandchildren; and possession deadlines are looming.
“We get calls from around the country from elderly people in tears asking for help,” says Willis. “It’s a big problem.”
It’s getting so big that Willis is looking to franchise her business. Over the past year, her declutterers have helped 100 homeowners in the Auckland region sell, give away or, most commonly, find a new home for saved and treasured items: a prison charity gets an old sewing machine; a private collector ends up with a surplus walking stick; a local museum takes an inherited antique.
Successful decluttering, however, takes time. The most common advice is to start early and choose your next home before it is chosen for you.
“A lot of people say, ‘The only way I will leave this place is in a box,’” says Grey Power president Tom O’Connor, who lives on a 3ha block on the outskirts of Timaru. “It’s a lot of bravado, but the reality is that in 10 or 15 years, I know I won’t be able to manage my little farm. It’s not a viable proposition for me. My children don’t want it. I will have to sell it and go somewhere. I’m putting that day off but that is the reality, and you make that plan while you are lucid and aware of what you are letting yourself in for.”
A DOWNSIZER’S STORY
Christchurch-born Anne Coates (not her real name), now 90, took six months to finalise her plan for downsizing. Her four-bedroom family home was too big, the garden had become too much to manage and the cost of maintaining the property was too high. When a stand-alone two-bedroom house in a local retirement village became available five years ago, she sold up and is now in a home about a third the size of her last one.
Letting go of many of her possessions was not easy: it was one of the many losses she endured, along with that of her home, her garden and her lifestyle. But with help from family members, she sorted out what would fit in her new home, what should go to the local charity shop, what could go to family, what could be sold through what is a dwindling antiques market – and what should go into the skip.
“It was hard – I did lose a lot. It is one of many losses you go through, but I was also able to buy new things for the new house – that was exciting.”
Coates is one of 39,000 New Zealanders living in a unit, apartment or serviced apartment in a retirement village. For many, such a step makes sense financially. According to a 2016 report on equity realisation, of those downsizing into a retirement village, 22% had cash of $200,000 or more remaining after their sale and purchase, compared with only 12% of those who relocated to another house in the community.
And many older people living alone in the community are isolated. The Ministry of Social Development’s Social Report data from 2016 shows loneliness decreases with age, from 16% for those aged 15-24 years to just under 10% for those aged 65-74.
“We get calls from around the country from elderly people in tears asking for help. It’s a big problem.”
Among those over 75, however, the prevalence jumps back up to 12%.
Moving into a retirement home, of course, is not a guarantee against loneliness. Reports from both the US and UK have found higher rates of depression among older people in long-term care facilities than in the wider community.
Part of this can be attributed to the transition itself, as older people choose or are forced to leave behind their neighbourhood, their community and their possessions, not to mention their sense of purpose as grandparents, gardeners, pet owners and masters of their own home.
Hanny Naus, Age Concern’s adviser for elder abuse and neglect prevention services, says the decision to move to a retirement village should never be taken lightly. She advises older people to talk to a lawyer, family members and doctors to find out what services are available for continued “ageing in place”. In choosing a retirement village, she says, don’t rely on the glossy brochure and the manager’s tour – drop in unofficially and talk to other residents. The impressive new facade may attract the longer waiting lists, but “they may not be the most community-minded or have the kindest staff”.
Most importantly, ensure it is the older person’s decision to move.
“Often it is the family worrying about mum living on her own – that she is not managing or not taking the right medication or is feeling down,” says Naus. “So they are saying, ‘This is the best thing for mum: she will be safe, she will be cared for, we won’t need to worry’, rather than saying, ‘Is this the move you need to make at this point? How can we make it possible for you to stay at home?’ So the real subtext is, ‘it will be easier for us’, especially if money is in a trust so they won’t lose any inheritance if she goes into a rest home.”
TAKING NOTICE
Many retirement villages are taking note of the concerns. A growing number now provide facilities and amenities – cafes, swimming pools, gyms, even childcare – to provide a welcoming environment not just for residents but also for guests, children and grandchildren.
“The most successful retirement villages are those that have a two-way traffic, with residents going out into the community and the community coming into the village and sharing the facilities,” says John Collyns, executive director of the Retirement Villages Association. “The majority of our residents come from within a 10-15km radius of the village they have moved to, so they are not
Many retirement villages provide cafes, swimming pools, gyms – even childcare – to provide a welcoming environment.
losing touch with their friends and their community.”
And some facilities are working to keep residents engaged with other people and the natural environment. Hilda JohnsonBogaerts is the general manager of the Selwyn Institute for Ageing and Spirituality, the research arm of the Selwyn Foundation residential and village care organisation. She says that from a holistic and spiritual point of view, “it is really important to have contact with animals, children, plants, sunlight”.
It is also vital residents maintain a sense of agency, so villagers are encouraged to make contact with new neighbours, volunteer at the on-site op shop and take a role in running various hobby committees. “That is how they get to be part of the community.”
As one commentator said, the answer is not to provide yet another diversion “to distract you until you pass on”, but to ensure reciprocal roles and responsibilities, be it
assisting with the running of the village, growing vegetables in a communal garden, working from home, even training dogs – taking animals to rest homes is often framed as a service for vulnerable older people but it actually plays a vital role in socialising animals.
More than 20 retirement villages in New Zealand have adopted the Eden Alternative programme established in the US in the early 90s to address the “three plagues of loneliness, helplessness and boredom” experienced by residents of aged-care facilities and retirement villages. Under this programme, occupants are involved in all aspects of decision-making: they have a role in giving services as well as receiving them; they maintain gardens; they may keep pets; and they can choose when and what to eat.
Common to all these goals is a sense of purpose, community and meaningful experience that research into the world’s “blue zones” – those parts of the world where people live the longest – has shown to be of far more importance than the loss or acquisition of possessions.
In Stuffocation, Wallman extols the importance of such experiences – what he calls “experientialism” – as opposed to the dead weight of possessions and the personal and social cost of our materialistic lives. As he told the Listener, “If you see the world from a materialistic viewpoint, you see that some people really have and some people really don’t have, but if you shift your perspective to an experientialist point of view, it’s a different playing field.
“If you have run a marathon under a certain time or if you’ve worked in a homeless shelter over Christmas, you have a story to tell other people and a story to tell yourself about your identity. In a world of abundance, not a world of scarcity, which is the world we come from, the story you have to tell is much more important than things that you have.”
The demand for accommodation for the elderly will grow. The number of people in the 65-plus age group doubled between 1980 and 2013 and is likely to double again by 2036. This growth will be particularly strong in the older age bracket; there is expected to be a 300% increase in the number of those over 85. These projections are driving the call for more retirement village units and, increasingly, serviced apartments. According to the 2015 New Zealand Retirement Village Database, by property specialist JLL, an extra 55,000 people will be considering a move into a retirement village between 2018 and 2043, requiring an additional 11.4 retirement villages to be built each year over that time.
Re-evaluating the role of stuff in our lives will be part of this demographic and housing change.
“People who feel grounded in their lives, connected to other people in strong and supportive ways, whose sense of agency as a human being comes from accomplishments or experiences rather than stuff, are better able to cope with change,” says Vertue. “In moving, you can lose some of that self-efficacy, when you are used to mastering your own ship.”
When Vertue had to empty out her home of 20 years for house renovations, she took advice from Marie Kondo, author of The LifeChanging Magic of Tidying Up.
“It is not about how long you’ve had a particular possession or how much you think you’ll need it or how beautiful it is – it is simply, when you hold the thing, does it give you a little spark of joy? If we could train ourselves to do that, I think life would be easier.”
“It is not about how long you’ve had a possession; when you hold the thing, does it give you a little spark of joy?”