I feel old
I just finished going through some ten years worth of my stuff from my life here in Hawaii (including one year in California). And it only took two days, for about five or six hours per day. I've trimmed it to about four of those document boxes (well, four overflowing, overstuffed boxes), and four garbage bags of trash. Let's hope I don't get any surprises and find, like, a hidden store of ten boxes of my stuff, or anything.
To get through it so fast, first of all, this is a trimmed down version of my stuff. I had already thrown a lot away when I moved to Seattle, and when my family moved to a new house right before I moved to Seattle. Secondly, I made up some rules: don't spend more than X amount of time deciding on each item, if you do spend more time, it's going to be thrown away; think about where this is going to go in your new apartment, where will you keep it, how will it figure into your life; if you keep it, are you ever really going to look at it again? Etc.
In any case, I've found all the things I've wanted to find (friends' addresses--not all but at least most, old writing, random school records and awards, my old journals, some photographs, other random things I've collected over the years) and I resisted my natural pack rat impulses, and threw out as much as I possibly could. I want to take everything back to Seattle and not have *anything* that I want to keep left here, because I don't know if it'll be here when I get back--my family moves often and regularly, stuff might get lost or thrown away with my knowledge, etc. I'd rather throw it away and know, then have it thrown away and not know.
I threw away a lot of correspondence--I've never EVER thrown away personal letters before which is why I had so many--so I feel bad about it, but I told myself, it's either this, or have it thrown away by someone here. Because I can't possibly take this much stuff back to Seattle. So I threw it out. I hope I did not do the wrong thing. I feel partly bad because a letter feels like it belongs to both me, and its author, and throwing them away without telling the author feels--wrong. But I guess if they sent it to me, it's mine, and I should do what I like with it.
What makes me feel worse, though, is that I kept a few postcards from a guy I had really liked in college, and yet, threw away years and years of letters from some close, old friends. I feel like vermin-filled maggot scum. I should be forced to eat my toenails. Er, ick. Maybe not my own toenails. Maybe just eat vermin-filled maggot scum. That'd be okay.
Anyway, I kept *some* letters from everyone, so I can just rationalize it by saying, everyone got roughly the same amount of physical volume for their letters to occupy. So if you sent more, more got dumped. If you only ever sent a few postcards, you're lucky and I keep them all.
I dumped my entire box of ~(insert a certain ex-bf's name)~ memorabilia though, hahaha! It was the first thing I dumped today, and I got great satisfaction from it. It was the first thing I threw out because it was the only thing I didn't have to ponder or make any sort of decisions about. The entire box, gone!
This has lead me to realize the importance of the passage of time. I think from now on, when I keep memorable stuff, I'm going to give each thing some "cooling off" time. Like have two "memorable stuff" boxes--one permanent, one "cooling off"--and I let a year or two (or three or four) elapse before the stuff from the cooling off box can move into the permanent box. This will make it easier to know the stuff I have to sort and throw out--I only need to look at the cooling off box--instead of all my stuff.
Anyway, something else this activity made me realize--holy crap, I used to draw A LOT. I didn't realize I drew so much. There were just endless pages and pages of drawings, some paintings, and other random artwork. No wonder I don't suck quite *that* badly as an artist even though I don't draw anymore. I drew so much, it made up for several lifetimes of no practice. I've actually been wondering why, whenever I once in a while actually produce some artistic work, it doesn't look that bad, even though (I thought) I only occasionally doodled as a kid. Because when I was younger, I actually made art like mad, and so the effects of that practice is still with me.
Also, I have at least a *little* more writing than I thought. Plus, I was crazy about music, apparently. *AND* to my immense glee and satisfaction, as a kid, I really WAS as obsessed about planning and goal-setting as I thought. And I really did have my days and weeks meticulously scheduled, my long and short term goals set, little contracts with myself about what I would do to achieve my goals, blah blah blah. I found so much of that stuff!
I'm still...fairly anal about scheduling everything, but I have fallen into some deep dark state of goal-less chaos. "Plan year and make life plan" has been on my to-do list since the beginning of this year. (At least I still keep a to-do list.) This may have been the first year of my life where I had no plan. I've fallen into such a mess that it's made me think, maybe I was always this plan-less. I'm glad I found all my old papers. At least I can really confirm to myself, I'm not crazy and just wishfully thinking life had previously been more goal-driven when I was young. It actually *HAD* been more goal-driven.
See, this is the importance of keeping this kind of stuff. So that I know that my reminisces of my past aren't pipe dreams.
So maybe I should make up some goals. This activity was nice for some...thinking about myself, my past, who I've been, where I came from. Getting in touch with myself, pondering how I've changed, etc. Maybe this would be a good point in life for some goal setting.
But I'm going on a hike tomorrow with Shelly and her friend (yay!) so I need to get up bright and early, so I'm gonna go to sleep now.
P.S.
Oh but wait, here's why I'm so anal about not keeping anything here:
When I was in middle school in Hawaii, I did a really nice watercolor and ink that I was fairly proud of. My art teacher was too, she liked it, and so at the end of the school year, when she was fixing up the room for next year's students, she decided to put my picture up in the room for next year's students to see. I told her, "but no, I want it back!" because I liked it so much. We argued about it for a bit, and then she finally gave in and gave it to me. I was really proud of it, put it up on the wall in my room.
That summer, we went to Hong Kong. My uncle & aunt remained in the house that we stayed at in Hawaii. When I came back, I found my things had been cleared off my wall, including my treasured little picture. I was unspeakably upset. Anyway, so now, I know better than to leave my stuff at home if other people are around. Currently, my family at home still includes my uncle, so I'd better watch out. But at least I have my aunt (a different one) who seems to have saved a lot of my stuff from getting thrown out, so I can relax a bit. But still, better be safe than sorry.
P.P.S.
Sorry to edit this entry again.
Man, I now regret having thrown all of ~(certain ex-bf)~'s stuff away. There was probably a card in there with some poems written for me, and it was probably the first (and possibly only...) time any guy has ever written love poems for me. Damn, I should have kept them just for the...novelty value, or whatever. Dammit!
To get through it so fast, first of all, this is a trimmed down version of my stuff. I had already thrown a lot away when I moved to Seattle, and when my family moved to a new house right before I moved to Seattle. Secondly, I made up some rules: don't spend more than X amount of time deciding on each item, if you do spend more time, it's going to be thrown away; think about where this is going to go in your new apartment, where will you keep it, how will it figure into your life; if you keep it, are you ever really going to look at it again? Etc.
In any case, I've found all the things I've wanted to find (friends' addresses--not all but at least most, old writing, random school records and awards, my old journals, some photographs, other random things I've collected over the years) and I resisted my natural pack rat impulses, and threw out as much as I possibly could. I want to take everything back to Seattle and not have *anything* that I want to keep left here, because I don't know if it'll be here when I get back--my family moves often and regularly, stuff might get lost or thrown away with my knowledge, etc. I'd rather throw it away and know, then have it thrown away and not know.
I threw away a lot of correspondence--I've never EVER thrown away personal letters before which is why I had so many--so I feel bad about it, but I told myself, it's either this, or have it thrown away by someone here. Because I can't possibly take this much stuff back to Seattle. So I threw it out. I hope I did not do the wrong thing. I feel partly bad because a letter feels like it belongs to both me, and its author, and throwing them away without telling the author feels--wrong. But I guess if they sent it to me, it's mine, and I should do what I like with it.
What makes me feel worse, though, is that I kept a few postcards from a guy I had really liked in college, and yet, threw away years and years of letters from some close, old friends. I feel like vermin-filled maggot scum. I should be forced to eat my toenails. Er, ick. Maybe not my own toenails. Maybe just eat vermin-filled maggot scum. That'd be okay.
Anyway, I kept *some* letters from everyone, so I can just rationalize it by saying, everyone got roughly the same amount of physical volume for their letters to occupy. So if you sent more, more got dumped. If you only ever sent a few postcards, you're lucky and I keep them all.
I dumped my entire box of ~(insert a certain ex-bf's name)~ memorabilia though, hahaha! It was the first thing I dumped today, and I got great satisfaction from it. It was the first thing I threw out because it was the only thing I didn't have to ponder or make any sort of decisions about. The entire box, gone!
This has lead me to realize the importance of the passage of time. I think from now on, when I keep memorable stuff, I'm going to give each thing some "cooling off" time. Like have two "memorable stuff" boxes--one permanent, one "cooling off"--and I let a year or two (or three or four) elapse before the stuff from the cooling off box can move into the permanent box. This will make it easier to know the stuff I have to sort and throw out--I only need to look at the cooling off box--instead of all my stuff.
Anyway, something else this activity made me realize--holy crap, I used to draw A LOT. I didn't realize I drew so much. There were just endless pages and pages of drawings, some paintings, and other random artwork. No wonder I don't suck quite *that* badly as an artist even though I don't draw anymore. I drew so much, it made up for several lifetimes of no practice. I've actually been wondering why, whenever I once in a while actually produce some artistic work, it doesn't look that bad, even though (I thought) I only occasionally doodled as a kid. Because when I was younger, I actually made art like mad, and so the effects of that practice is still with me.
Also, I have at least a *little* more writing than I thought. Plus, I was crazy about music, apparently. *AND* to my immense glee and satisfaction, as a kid, I really WAS as obsessed about planning and goal-setting as I thought. And I really did have my days and weeks meticulously scheduled, my long and short term goals set, little contracts with myself about what I would do to achieve my goals, blah blah blah. I found so much of that stuff!
I'm still...fairly anal about scheduling everything, but I have fallen into some deep dark state of goal-less chaos. "Plan year and make life plan" has been on my to-do list since the beginning of this year. (At least I still keep a to-do list.) This may have been the first year of my life where I had no plan. I've fallen into such a mess that it's made me think, maybe I was always this plan-less. I'm glad I found all my old papers. At least I can really confirm to myself, I'm not crazy and just wishfully thinking life had previously been more goal-driven when I was young. It actually *HAD* been more goal-driven.
See, this is the importance of keeping this kind of stuff. So that I know that my reminisces of my past aren't pipe dreams.
So maybe I should make up some goals. This activity was nice for some...thinking about myself, my past, who I've been, where I came from. Getting in touch with myself, pondering how I've changed, etc. Maybe this would be a good point in life for some goal setting.
But I'm going on a hike tomorrow with Shelly and her friend (yay!) so I need to get up bright and early, so I'm gonna go to sleep now.
P.S.
Oh but wait, here's why I'm so anal about not keeping anything here:
When I was in middle school in Hawaii, I did a really nice watercolor and ink that I was fairly proud of. My art teacher was too, she liked it, and so at the end of the school year, when she was fixing up the room for next year's students, she decided to put my picture up in the room for next year's students to see. I told her, "but no, I want it back!" because I liked it so much. We argued about it for a bit, and then she finally gave in and gave it to me. I was really proud of it, put it up on the wall in my room.
That summer, we went to Hong Kong. My uncle & aunt remained in the house that we stayed at in Hawaii. When I came back, I found my things had been cleared off my wall, including my treasured little picture. I was unspeakably upset. Anyway, so now, I know better than to leave my stuff at home if other people are around. Currently, my family at home still includes my uncle, so I'd better watch out. But at least I have my aunt (a different one) who seems to have saved a lot of my stuff from getting thrown out, so I can relax a bit. But still, better be safe than sorry.
P.P.S.
Sorry to edit this entry again.
Man, I now regret having thrown all of ~(certain ex-bf)~'s stuff away. There was probably a card in there with some poems written for me, and it was probably the first (and possibly only...) time any guy has ever written love poems for me. Damn, I should have kept them just for the...novelty value, or whatever. Dammit!