My First Brush with Buster Saunders
Heard about this “Buster Saunders” thing from a mate down the pub, actually. Said it changed his life, made everything simpler. I scoffed, you know? Sounded like another one of those self-help fads that pop up, promise the world, and then fade away. But he was proper serious about it, kept going on about how it cleared his head.
Taking the Plunge into the Unknown
Thing is, my digital life was a complete tip. Emails? Thousands unread. My desktop looked like a teenager’s bedroom floor. Files scattered everywhere, half of them I didn’t even know what they were. It was doing my head in, more than I liked to admit. So, one miserable Sunday afternoon, nothing good on telly, I thought, “Right, let’s see what this Buster Saunders malarkey is all about.” The core idea, as far as I could tell, was just being absolutely ruthless. Not just tidying, but proper chucking stuff out.
The Nitty-Gritty of My Buster Saunders Experiment
So, I started. First up, emails. The Buster Saunders way, or my version of it anyway, was to basically delete or archive anything older than, say, two weeks. And unsubscribe from nearly everything. Unsubscribe. From. Everything. My finger actually trembled over the button for some of those newsletters I never read but felt I should. It was like pulling teeth, I tell ya.
Then I moved on to my computer. Oh, the horror. Years of accumulated digital junk. I created a big folder, called it “THE BIN OF NO RETURN – BUSTER SAUNDERS SPECIAL.” Real dramatic, I know.
- First, tackled the desktop. That was an archaeological dig.
- Then, the downloads folder. What a nightmare. Why did I download half that stuff?
- Finally, my “Documents” folder. Full of projects I started in 2012 and promptly forgot.
It was genuinely hard work. Kept having those thoughts, “But what if I need this ancient file from six years ago for some unspecified future reason?” But this Buster Saunders idea is all about challenging that. If it was that important, I’d probably know where it was, or I wouldn’t have forgotten it for six years. Felt a bit like a digital detox, but way more aggressive.
This Whole Thing Actually Reminded Me Of…
You know, this whole process, this feeling of being brutal with stuff, it really took me back. Took me back to when I had to move out of my old flat years ago. The one I’d lived in for nearly a decade. I was a terrible hoarder back then, physically, not just digitally. Piles of old magazines, clothes I hadn’t worn since uni, gadgets that were broken but I swore I’d fix one day. The sheer volume of stuff was suffocating.
My brother came to help, bless him. He’s not sentimental about things like I am. He just started making piles: keep, charity, bin. And the bin pile was massive. I argued over every other thing. “But this broken VCR! I was going to get it repaired!” He just looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and said, “Mate, it’s been in that cupboard since 2005. Let it go.” It was painful, really painful at the time. Felt like I was throwing away memories. But once it was done, once the van was loaded and the old place was empty, there was this incredible sense of lightness. Like a weight had been lifted. That flat move was my first, accidental Buster Saunders, I reckon. Just didn’t have a fancy name for it then.
So, What’s the Verdict on This Buster Saunders Business?
Now? Well, my computer’s definitely cleaner. My inbox is a zen garden, relatively speaking. I actually feel a bit less stressed when I open my laptop. It’s not some magic cure-all, mind. You’ve got to be in the right headspace to just ditch stuff without mercy. And yeah, there’s a tiny voice that sometimes whispers, “Did you really need to delete that picture of a half-eaten sandwich from 2017?” But mostly, it’s good. It’s about making space, I suppose. Digitally and maybe mentally too. Would I recommend it? Yeah, probably. If you’re drowning in your own digital mess, give Buster Saunders a go. Just be prepared to be a bit savage.
