Comfort in Clutter: A Reflection for the Maximalists

Not everyone wants an empty bench or bare wall. Some people thrive in spaces that are full—overflowing, even—with colour, craft, collections, and history. And honestly? That used to be hard for me to understand.

I’m not a minimalist exactly, but I definitely feel better when things are orderly. When I can see the surfaces in my home. When everything has a spot, and I don’t have to go hunting for scissors or a charger. I like a space that lets my nervous system breathe.

I like to admire my art by looking at it—really seeing it—not glancing past a wall packed with paintings where my eyes dart in all directions. I like calm.

But over the years of doing deep cleaning and sorting work with others, I’ve had to unlearn some assumptions. Some people genuinely feel comforted by a full room. The layers, the richness, the memories—it’s part of their identity. It energises them. More really is more, and that’s not wrong. It’s just different.

So then… what’s my role in a space like that?

I’m still learning, but here’s what I’ve noticed:

1. Sorting and organising still helps—massively.

   Even when nothing is thrown out, simply grouping like with like, clearing a pathway, or creating a more usable system can shift the energy and improve function.

2. It’s rarely a once-off job. These spaces usually need recurring support. Not because people are messy, but because when you love and live with a lot of things, they tend to drift. Organisation is a practice, not an event.

3. Closed storage often backfires. Out of sight really is out of mind for many maximalists. Tubs and cupboards can lead to re-buying what they already have, simply because they forgot it was there. Open or clear storage, visible systems, and intuitive layouts work better.

4. Other reflections I’ve gathered:

   – Zones help. Even if a home is full, defining areas for each type of activity or hobby can bring calm.

   – Display is a love language. For some, putting things on display isn’t clutter—it’s expression. Curating (and re-curating) these displays intentionally (rather than letting them build randomly) can help keep the joy.

   – Letting go is harder when joy is in the variety. It’s not always about sentiment. Sometimes, people love having ten paintbrushes or six slow cookers because each has a use or potential. That’s not wasteful to them. That’s abundance that enables proper expression through the correct technique.

5. Trust and pacing matter. It’s not about forcing minimalism. It’s about creating systems that support the way they live—not how I live.

   
   

There’s still a fine line between comfort and overwhelm. And sometimes, even the most enthusiastic collectors reach a tipping point where the stuff starts owning them. When that happens, I’m there too—to help gently unravel the excess, and make space for breath again.

But mostly, I’ve learned that deep cleaning isn’t about making everyone live the same way. It’s about helping people live better in the way that’s right for them.