The Epic Saga of 23 Cabinets and a Tuning Fork

Hello Beautiful Readers!

If you’ve ever wondered what it feels like to work with a Marie Kondo-trained professional organizer, then you, my friend, are in for a treat. Grab your yoga mat, your favorite crystal, and buckle up for a tale of transformation, a mild spiritual awakening, and the eventual demise of a crock pot I haven’t used since the Obama administration. Welcome to the third installment of my decluttering adventure with Sarah from A Space of Clarity. This chapter is about my kitchen – a saga that, like a good soufflé, cannot be rushed.

A Space of Clarity: Enter Sarah, My Decluttering Guru

Let’s start at the beginning. My friend Sarah is a yoga teacher extraordinaire, a budding reiki practitioner, and a Marie Kondo -trained professional organizer. (She is also works in finance by day, but I digress). If you have been reading my blog, you will see that this is the third tidying session that Sarah has orchestrated for me. First, we overhauled my master closet (amazing) and second, we tackled all my books and papers (incredible).

For our third session, we tackled the kitchen. Sarah warned me in advance that kitchens usually take two sessions: one for “things” and one for pantry/food. “Eh,” I thought, “there can’t be THAT much stuff.” Boy, was I wrong.

On Saturday, Sarah swept into my home like a calm tornado—if tornadoes wore cute jeans and carried tuning forks. You see, Sarah is not your average organizer. While most people arrive armed with tape measures and trash bags, Sarah brings a tuning fork, a crystal, and a determined sparkle in her eye that says, “Today, you will part with your bread machine.”

Our kitchen transformation was a two-part job, but—spoiler alert—we only tackled part one: the “things” part. The pantry full of food will have to wait for another weekend. But fear not. The “things” part of my kitchen turned out to be a Herculean task.

Setting Intentions

The session began, as all proper spiritual decluttering missions should, with Sarah holding aloft a tuning fork and a crystal.

She moved gracefully around the four corners of my kitchen, striking the fork and waving it in a manner reminiscent of someone blessing a ship before launch.

Then, Sarah asked me to set my intention for the space. I closed my eyes and envisioned a kitchen where I could host friends at a moment’s notice with a smile on my face, a place where I could move with ease, and a sanctuary that inspired health (and maybe the courage to actually cook something once in a while).

Let the Battle Begin: Removing Kitchen “Things”

With intentions set and energy cleared, we got down to business. And by “business,” I mean pulling everything out of cabinets, drawers, shelves, and whatever mysterious recesses lurked beneath the countertop.

Sarah, wielding her yoga calm, gently encouraged me to touch every item and decide if it “sparked joy.” If it didn’t, out it went faster than you can say “Goodbye, fondue pot.”

Let’s talk about the first casualty: my crock pot. I live alone, and the last time I used this slow-cooking beast was probably five years ago.  It is gigantic and hard to store.  I felt a certain lightness in my soul as I stacked it on the “donate” pile.

Next up: small appliances of questionable necessity. Out went the “aspirational” gadgets, followed by enough baking supplies to open a pop-up bakery.

The Dreaded Corner Cabinet: Home of Tray Mountain

Ah, the corner cabinet. For the three decades that I have lived in this home, this cavernous space has been the Bermuda Triangle of my kitchen—serving trays, platters, and pyrex baking dishes disappeared into its depths, never to be seen again. Extracting anything from this cabinet required yogic flexibility and the patience of a saint. To retrieve a single item, I had to crawl on my hands and knees, fighting past stacks of mismatched items that were all teetering just on the verge of collapse. I think I counted 17 trays.

Tray Mountain: Transformation from Chaos to Chic

If there is such a thing as tray bliss, I have achieved it. The cabinet that once held a precarious, teetering stack of 17 trays now looks like a chic boutique. Sarah lined them up vertically, like elegant dominoes, and suddenly, pulling out a tray was as easy as browsing at Crate & Barrel.

No more wrestling to extricate the one I need from a pile; now, everything is at my fingertips. If friends visit, I can offer them appetizers on a tray without risking injury or embarrassment.

Mug Madness

Let us not forget the mug cabinet. I had mugs for every occasion: travel mugs, souvenir mugs, mugs with dogs on them.  I think the mugs breed in the cabinet at night.  We sorted them one by one, asking whether they sparked enough joy to warrant residency. The result? A streamlined collection that actually fits in the cabinet. I can open the door without unleashing a mug avalanche.

You might be wondering about the Tupperware. I had enough to pack lunch for an army, despite the fact that I mostly eat out. We purged the mismatched containers, said farewell to lonely lids, and organized the few survivors in tidy stacks. Now, the cabinet no longer threatens to collapse when I reach for a container, and I can actually see what I own.

We tackled glassware, utensils, baking supplies, towels, vases, pitchers, candles, and more. Each item was scrutinized, wiped down, and assigned a new (or better) spot.

Sarah’s methodical approach meant that even the most random objects had to justify their existence—and if they failed the test, they were out.

Cleansing, Cleaning, and the Joy of a Quiet Kitchen

Once the sorting was done, we wiped down every shelf, every drawer, every hinge and handle. Sarah’s yoga calm made cleaning feel like a moving meditation, although I admit I did pause to celebrate the fact that I could finally see the bottom of my corner cabinet.

We loaded everything back in, sometimes in new places, sometimes in familiar spots, but always with an eye toward making life easier.

The result? My kitchen is quieter, cleaner, and somehow lighter. The air feels fresher, the countertops are visible, and I don’t dread opening a cabinet. It’s as if the whole room had a spa day. I walk in and feel a sense of ease—and maybe the slightest hint of smug satisfaction.

I find myself lingering in the kitchen now, admiring my tray store, marveling at the organized mugs, and reveling in the absence of clutter. I no longer fight with rogue serving trays or risk bodily harm reaching for a mixing bowl. Instead, I move through the space with grace – maybe not quite Sarah’s yoga grace, but close enough for me.

Decluttering isn’t just about getting rid of stuff; it’s about intentionally creating a space that feels joyful, functional, and peaceful. With Sarah’s guidance, I discovered that my kitchen could be a space of clarity – a place where I can breathe, cook, entertain, and live a little lighter.

Reflections and Revelations: The Aftermath

It’s been a few days since the great kitchen clear-out, and I can confidently say: I am changed. My kitchen is changed. Even my crock pot, now in the hands of someone who will actually use it, is probably happier. I’ve hosted a friend, cooked a meal, and didn’t have to apologize for the state of my cabinets. I even made a salad – yes, with vegetables! – and felt inspired to keep up the healthy momentum.

What did I learn? That letting go of stuff isn’t always easy, but it’s deeply rewarding. That intention matters. When you set out to create a space you love, magic happens (especially when you have a tuning fork and a crystal on your side). That the right kind of help can turn a dreaded chore into an unexpectedly joyful experience.

Sarah’s unique blend of yoga, reiki, and practical organization transformed not just my kitchen but my outlook. I can’t wait for part two—the pantry. Will we find canned goods from the Clinton era? Will Sarah bring out a singing bowl and invite me to chant “beans, beans, beans”? Only time will tell.

So, if you’re ready to face your own kitchen chaos, I highly recommend calling Sarah from A Space of Clarity. http://www.aspaceofclarity

She’ll tune your energy, sort your mugs, and guide you to a place where even the corner cabinet feels like a breath of fresh air.

Stay tuned for the next chapter. For now, I’m off to enjoy my sparkling cabinets, liberated trays, and the thrill of a kitchen that finally, truly, sparks joy.

xo Christina