Organizing Belongings for a Lighter Old Age: Self-Care to Leave a Legacy with Meaning
How many times, after the death of a very close family member—father, mother, sibling, a good friend—have we felt the weight, in the midst of mourning, of entering their house, their drawers, and their memories to organize, clean, and fulfill the will of their testament. These are moments of great intensity and emotional weight that, while serving as an anchor to remember the person, also present themselves as evidence of that absence: the owner of all those photos, coffee sets, old jewelry, or manuscripts is gone forever. And before that ambivalence, one certainty: that all of it must be organized, classified, divided.
More and more in our culture and society—fortunately—we are talking about something that in other countries and contexts is an established tradition: Swedish death cleaning, the döstädning, of Nordic origin—or death cleaning—which became better known here thanks to Margareta Magnusson. This 91-year-old artist, a graduate of Beckman’s College of Design in Stockholm, has exhibited around the world and is the author of the book The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning (Reservoir Books, 2018). In it, she explains how to carry out the process to leave our affairs in order before passing on, a practical reflection full of common sense, especially as we grow older. It is not about obsessing over death, but about making life easier for those who will come after.
As the years go by, the house becomes a mirror of life. This can be beautiful, comforting, a great help for identifying our own spaces and environments, for self-affirmation. But sometimes it accumulates without meaning travel souvenirs, gifts that never moved us, inherited objects we do not use… And all of this, with the accumulation of years, can turn into a burden.
This is not strange; it has been studied from the perspective of environmental psychology. Just a few weeks ago, psychologist Francis Quinn, from Robert Gordon University in Aberdeen (Scotland), published a study in the Journal of Environmental Psychology showing that household clutter negatively correlates with psychological well-being. Already in 2021, another study by psychologists Caroline Rogers and Rona Hart, carried out with a sample of one thousand adults, pointed out in the same sense that household clutter was one of the best predictors of lower well-being (more negative emotions and loneliness). In 2022, Helena L. Swanson and Joseph R. Ferrari also concluded, in another paper published in Behavioral Sciences, that in people over 65, clutter was associated with lower well-being, and they further emphasized its importance for healthy aging.
A home saturated with objects increases cortisol levels, the stress hormone, and contributes to feelings of overwhelm and lack of control. Material clutter ends up generating emotional clutter, a kind of background noise that clouds calm—a sensation contrary to what we need in the last stage of our life. We often hear reflections such as, “if I lived in a smaller apartment, I’d have fewer things to clean and organize, everything would be easier.” In addition, concern about legacy is increasingly present: “what will happen to all this when I am no longer here?”
Magnusson, this sort of Marie Kondo for seniors, is clear that it is necessary to organize, discard, and reflect on our possessions. “To all the brave ones who decide to start döstädning, go ahead! You will enjoy the process; you will relive the journey of your life. It will be a peaceful and reflective time. I always say that when it comes to death cleaning, size does matter. Start with large and bulky items, like furniture, and finish with small things like letters and photographs. If you start by getting rid of big things, you’ll feel you are making a lot of progress from the beginning. If you start with old letters, you’ll get stuck reading them, maybe over and over again, and you won’t feel you are getting anywhere. Start big!”
Another of the artist’s practical tips, for those who want to do a deep cleaning to grow old with lightness, is to let those around you know about the process you are undertaking. “That way they won’t be surprised if you call them and ask if they want a vase, a tablecloth, or a painting you want to get rid of. They may even offer to give you a hand,” she says. She also suggests not keeping things for heirs unless you are 100% sure someone wants them, and to keep only what makes our lives more comfortable. “Life becomes more pleasant and more comfortable if we get rid of part of the abundance,” she sums up.
Organizing in this situation, when we are already older, can be interpreted as serenely preparing for death or the “when I am no longer here,” but also as facilitating vital serenity. It is an act of self-care that lightens, frees space, facilitates autonomy, and turns the home into a place where what remains has meaning and is useful. The legacy will be lighter for those who come after, and more peaceful for the one who passes it on.
