The tyranny of stuff
I have been trying to pare down the amount of stuff I own recently. For the last week, I have been digging through my drawers and closets and boxes to find things to either donate or throw out. I get this tremendous sense of relief when I can let go of objects; I strongly dislike clutter, and I really love the feeling of indepedence from worrying about or attachment to physical crap. So out goes anything I haven't touched in forever. Out goes any costume piece I've had forever but never used. Out goes all the clothes I never wear, or no longer enjoy wearing.
I grew up in a very clean, clutter-free home. When I was little, if we didn't touch something for a certain period of time, my dad would get rid of it. Nothing precious or important, fortunately. But it did force me to develop a zen-like detachment from material things. When I was a kid I would get upset at first, but honestly I'm glad it taught me that physical objects aren't really that important.
I sometimes find myself slipping into that creepy Depression-era mentality of, "Ugh, what if I need this useless thing sometime down the line and I have to buy a new one? I hate spending money on dumb stuff that I used to already have!" But I follow the rule of if you haven't touched it in a year (some people say five, but I'm conservative) then you really don't need it. And whatever, you had to buy a thing that was probably already pretty cheap to begin with. Useable space, and the appearance of that space, is more precious.
Bernie loves stuff. If he and I ever live together, which I'm hoping we will in the foreseeable future, this is probably going to be a sticking point to work out. I tease him by calling him a few steps away from a hoarder, which really isn't true, but to my perspective he does have an excessive attachment to things I consider to be useless clutter-- tchotchkes, broken stuff that could theoretically be repaired but never will be, "emergency backups", supplies that may never actually be needed.
I have noticed that whenever I hear about any situation that has even the suggestion of excessive amounts of stuff, I get a weird panicked feeling. If I read about hoarders, I want to pile up everything I own and set it all on fire. Even if Bernie mentions the tendency toward clutter at his parents' house, I feel the urge to start throwing stuff away. I'm not sure why my reaction is that extreme. It just feels so suffocating, like I might drown in stuff. It's pretty unreasonable, but honestly I'd rather just be free of useless crap.
I grew up in a very clean, clutter-free home. When I was little, if we didn't touch something for a certain period of time, my dad would get rid of it. Nothing precious or important, fortunately. But it did force me to develop a zen-like detachment from material things. When I was a kid I would get upset at first, but honestly I'm glad it taught me that physical objects aren't really that important.
I sometimes find myself slipping into that creepy Depression-era mentality of, "Ugh, what if I need this useless thing sometime down the line and I have to buy a new one? I hate spending money on dumb stuff that I used to already have!" But I follow the rule of if you haven't touched it in a year (some people say five, but I'm conservative) then you really don't need it. And whatever, you had to buy a thing that was probably already pretty cheap to begin with. Useable space, and the appearance of that space, is more precious.
Bernie loves stuff. If he and I ever live together, which I'm hoping we will in the foreseeable future, this is probably going to be a sticking point to work out. I tease him by calling him a few steps away from a hoarder, which really isn't true, but to my perspective he does have an excessive attachment to things I consider to be useless clutter-- tchotchkes, broken stuff that could theoretically be repaired but never will be, "emergency backups", supplies that may never actually be needed.
I have noticed that whenever I hear about any situation that has even the suggestion of excessive amounts of stuff, I get a weird panicked feeling. If I read about hoarders, I want to pile up everything I own and set it all on fire. Even if Bernie mentions the tendency toward clutter at his parents' house, I feel the urge to start throwing stuff away. I'm not sure why my reaction is that extreme. It just feels so suffocating, like I might drown in stuff. It's pretty unreasonable, but honestly I'd rather just be free of useless crap.