When people discover I am an organizing consultant, the response I get most often is “Gee your place must be completely organized!” Well, as much as I would like to say it’s true, I face organizational challenges as much as the next person. My recent challenges come from living in a small space with my husband and visiting stepson, and now I am running a business out of my home. I work to follow my own advice to live within my space, but I continually feel the lure of expansion. “More space!” I cry, as I squish myself into a corner with my desk and computer. My dream is to have an entire room to myself for an office, but for now I make due with a corner of the living room.

In a former life, we had been looking for a larger home for some time when my former sea-loving fiance came up with the idea of buying a boat instead of a house. Live on a boat? It wasn’t something I would have thought of, but I was willing to entertain the idea. With his experience of both sailing and living on a boat, it seemed logical to him: We could live at the beach and travel whenever we wanted! I pondered the idea. I imagined more or less the equivalent of our current home at the time, which was pretty small, but floating instead of on land. As we perused photos on the Internet, I tried to visualize the spaces and being in them, and we discussed different sizes of boats.

When we finally got out to see some boats, the only ones available were much smaller than what we were really interested in. I tried to keep that in mind as we took a look at our first example, but I was completely shocked to find that it was even smaller than where we currently lived. I was in awe as I toured the boat with its narrow hallway to the bedroom. A queen-sized bed filled the entire room except for a small space to stand between the door and the foot of the bed. There were a few small drawers built into the bed platform and the closet space consisted of about one foot of hanging rod. Hey, I’m not a shop-a-holic by any means but this just didn’t compute.

You call that a kitchen?!? In the galley, a four-foot tall refrigerator accompanied a tiny stove/oven, and about 2 square feet of counter space. There were a few tiny cupboards into which I could hardly envision fitting even three pots and pans, let alone any dishes. Where in the world was any food supposed to go?

The icing on the cake was when the broker showed me to a room probably 4’ x 5’ which he proudly presented as the office. It seemed hardly larger than the standard apartment closet to me and included a built-in bench with removable cushions that converted to a sleeping bunk. The broker went on to explain that I could get more space by rigging the cushions to hang from the ceiling, and then flipped down an eighteen-inch by two-foot leaf from what looked like an end table to display a “roomy desk.”

I thought I was going to cry.

I felt I could hardly function where I already was, how would I keep my sanity in such a small space? There was no room for a filing cabinet, let alone my desk. All that would have to go. My head was spinning as I headed back to the “living room.” I realized I would have to give up almost every piece of furniture I had and 90% of my clothing. That’s not even getting into kitchen stuff, toys, books… books! I love my books! I wouldn’t be able to have more than a few in a space like this. I started to panic. Back in the car, my fiance began to get defensive over the reaction I was having. He felt he was losing his dream. From his perspective of having lived on a boat before, even the small space we had just seen was a mansion compared to what he’d experienced on his other boat. But we reminded ourselves that this boat was much smaller than the ones we were really interested in. We needed to keep looking around.

We only saw one other boat that day. It was actually a little smaller than the first one, but because of the layout it felt roomier, and it had more cupboards. Now that I knew what to expect, I wasn’t so shocked, but still felt there was no way I would be able to function on a practical level. Just like houses and apartments, layout of the rooms and the use of the space can make all the difference in how easily one can function. This was going to take some time, I realized.

Back at my small home that night, I looked around. Now it seemed spacious and palatial compared to the cramped quarters I had experienced earlier that day. Maybe that’s what I needed for a good reality check. I really do try as hard as I can to practice what I preach, but I still find myself overloaded with goods that I talk myself into keeping. It’s difficult for anyone to let go of non-essential belongings while living in a society that rewards the accumulation of “things.” It’s a status symbol to have lots of clutter sitting around because if we can afford all these things, it must mean we are making lots of money.

We see it everywhere: on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous we tour houses that are decorated beyond our wildest dreams with lots of expensive ornaments and knick-knacks. Then we see the Osbornes with furniture everywhere, walk-in closets crammed with clothes, and ten-foot gold statues of the sitting Bhudda. Conversely, images of spartan homes are often associated with poverty and scarcity, and make most people feel uncomfortable. Why then, would anybody want to clear their homes of clutter when it means letting go of a status symbol? This can sometimes be the challenge I face when I work with my clients.

So I start with myself. I ask myself if I really need to have so many candleholders. Are there some fiction books in my collection that I’ll honestly never read again? I love gardening, but do I really need to keep all the starter pots that came from the plants I purchased? I may not have been able to get rid of enough to live on a boat, but I could view my living space from a new perspective, one that showed me that I hadn't been using my space to its fullest advantage. I still had a lot of work to do.

I also realized that as cramped as I may have felt, my space could always be smaller. In many parts of the world, where several people share just one room, my space would have been considered a palace. I tried not to lose sight of that fact and to remain humble with what I had. Maybe someday I’ll have the spacious home of my dreams, but now I understand that to be able to live on a boat would be an enormous challenge and a proud accomplishment for me, and it would truly teach me the meaning of living within my space. It probably won’t happen anytime soon, but until then you can catch me at a boat show, checking for cupboard space!