Tales From The Lane
Living Your Best Life as Creative Artist
Swedish Death Cleaning: Simplifying Life and Career
In the midst of life’s complexities, where possessions accumulate like whispers of memories, there exists a transformative concept known as Swedish Death Cleaning—a notion that transcends the mundane act of tidying up and extends into a profound philosophy of intentional living.
As I navigated the task of clearing out my mother’s apartment, the essence of Swedish Death Cleaning unfolded, revealing not only a method of simplifying possessions but also a profound approach to streamlining life and career. This experience sparked a revelation—a call to embrace a Librarian’s mindset, curating our professional paths with the same deliberate intentionality as one carefully selects books for a cherished shelf. Join me on a journey where Swedish Death Cleaning meets the art of career curation, and where the question becomes not just “What do I own?” but rather “What do I want to leave behind?”
When we moved Mom permanently onto the skilled nursing floor and started hospice a few weeks ago, my brother and I had 30 days to move her out of her apartment. Thankfully, this wasn’t that storied experience of trying to clear out the family home that had been lived in for 60+ years.
I would have cried “Uncle” and fled as quickly as possible.
My parents downsized from the large, 4+ bedroom house I grew up in to a modest 2- 2-bedroom ranch once they were empty-nesters, and then after my father passed away in 2012, my mom moved into a 1-bedroom condo in a CCRC (continuing care retirement community.) With both moves, came a lot of shedding of belongings.
Mom wasn’t a big shopper. She wasn’t materialistic, and had very little jewelry. She was the kind of woman who owned one black coach handbag and used it every day–no matter what the occasion was.
So why did she have SO MUCH STUFF?
Because we all do. Life requires it. Unless you’re a die-hard minimalist (and have you ever met a die-hard minimalist who didn’t have a stack of bins stored at their parent’s house?) you’re going to have a certain amount of stuff related to how you live your life. Compared to most people though, she didn’t have that much, and what she had was very much on purpose.
(except for the entire cupboard filled with random florist vases—why do we ALL have those?)
I was grateful for 2 things:
1. Döstädning or, Swedish Death Cleaning.
2. My mother was a librarian
Swedish Death Cleaning is about going through your belongings once you’re past middle age, but before you’re anywhere near “the end”, and deciding what is important to keep, and what isn’t. You start to ask the question: “If I died tomorrow, what would people do with this stuff?”
Cleaning out my mom’s place over the last few weeks was a masterclass in living with purpose. She had downsized twice already, and her belongings truly reflected her priorities. Her belongings fell into 2 distinct categories:
- The things she used regularly
- The things she wanted to pass down to us.
The clothes she had were pretty basic. Long-sleeved T-shirts (in every color) Basic knit turtleneck sweaters (also in every color) and black and khaki trousers. There was nothing to keep. Nothing fancy, nothing of any particular quality. Nothing that needed to be passed down.
But her other closet was filled to the brim with craft supplies. She was constantly crafting–making blankets, quilts, scrapbooks–you name it–for the people she loved, and until 5 months ago, she might have used any of it at any time. She also made a scrapbook for every year. Every vacation. EVERY. THING.
Her greatest gift to us was digitizing every photo so we wouldn’t need to house her wall of scrapbooks.
Her tiny kitchen was stuffed full of bakeware and serving pieces, and handmade placemats and napkins because her 2nd love was entertaining. She was the one who hosted all of the big family holidays, and she loved to make an event out of the smallest thing. Even a simple lunch required a thoughtful table setting. She was the resident who would host wine and cheese welcome parties whenever someone new moved onto her floor.
But there was one thing she loved more than entertaining and crafting: Books. She was a voracious reader, and yet she only had about 15 books in her entire apartment. She was a librarian, you see, and she thought that libraries were the most amazing places on earth. You could go there and pick out, reserve, or order ANY BOOK THAT HAD EVER BEEN WRITTEN and you didn’t even have to pay for it. You also didn’t have to store them in your house. The 15 on her shelf were books written by close friends, or favorite, well-worn children’s books that she had read to her children and grandchildren. Those 15 books contained so much more than just words on a page to her.
Mom passed away last week, leaving my brother and me as the new keepers of the family heirlooms. For him, living 1 mile away, it’s simply a matter of putting things into his car and driving them over to his own large 4-bedroom house with ample storage. He also has 2 sons that he knows he will pass things down to.
For me, it’s a bit more complicated. Whatever I save will need to be worth the costs of both shipping it overseas and paying customs duty on it. And other than a few things I’ll leave to my god-daughter, or our nieces and nephews, as child-free people, the buck stops with us. It makes you think twice about what you accumulate.
I took the beautiful silver platters passed down from grandma that graced every holiday meal (but not the super cute ones she bought at Crate & Barrel a few years ago)
The gold half-hoop earrings she had made out of her and my dad’s wedding rings after he died (but not the silver half-hoops she picked up at some department store)
Keep only the things you can’t find anywhere else.
Through the process, I felt a lightness. I felt the urge to pare everything down, maybe not all the way down to the minimalistic “essentials” but to at least narrow it down to “the important.”
And then it occurred to me that we can (and maybe should?) also be doing this with our careers.
I loved being a cellist, and I loved teaching, and I loved coaching, and I loved writing. But doing all 3 at once was becoming unsustainable for me. When I made the decision to streamline my activities, I felt so much better. There was less chaos, fewer scheduling conflicts, and more time to dive deep into the few things I had chosen to keep. What if we all chose to do only the work that feels important and personally fulfilling, and ditch the rest?
What if the work that you do is the perfect representation of who you are and what you’re about as a person?
What if we kept only what we couldn’t find elsewhere? Leaned into our expertise and passion and let others do the rest?
It has resulted in my buying a handful of courses and trainings that I felt very strongly about, and it has given me the time and space to fully implement those ideas. It has kept me from allowing things to get overly complicated.
The question “Can I get this from the Library?” has come in handy more times than I can count. Which for me translates to:
“Do I need to buy that sheet music, or is it on IMSLP?”
“Do I need this trendy new CRM software, or does what I currently have already do it?”
“Do I need to learn how to edit a podcast, or can I outsource that?”
“Is this a book I want to have and keep to refer back to, or something I can just listen to once as an audiobook?”
“Shiny Object” enticement is real–both when it comes to accumulating objects and when it comes to adding things to our careers––one more gig, one more teaching post, one more collaboration.
As I reflect on this journey of Swedish Death Cleaning and the deliberate choices it inspired in both my life and career, I am reminded that the true measure of our existence lies not in the abundance of possessions or accolades but in the impact we make and the meaningful connections we forge.
Embracing the mindset of a librarian—curating our lives and careers with intentionality—can lead us to a harmonious balance between the things we cherish daily and those we wish to pass on as our legacy. So, let’s keep only what truly matters, lean into our expertise and passion, and, in doing so, shape careers that are not just fulfilling for us but leave a lasting imprint for generations to come. Here’s to a life well-lived and a career that resonates with purpose.
Cheers,
Kate
Hi Kate, our condolences to your family. The first anniversary of my Mom’s passing was yesterday. That the death of a parent is an event which folks have in common makes it no less a difficult thing. Mom was also a Librarian and among the things she taught us was the awareness and importance of reference material. Thank you for being a good source reference for many of us.