"You can't take it with you," is a platitude that's often wheeled out when referring to wealth and earthly possessions. But the meaning of this worn out phrase is driven home at the point when you have to clear out an elderly or recently deceased person's home. All the things that they saved for best and never used, are sent to be used daily by strangers via Goodwill, and often the only footprint left from such precious life is the trinkets that are left behind.
Having been brought up by parents who grew up during World War II when commodities were scarce, I was always taught to treasure and value my possessions. Perhaps too much. My books were treated with such reverence that they appeared as if unread, my toys always looked like new, and everything was carefully and neatly put away in cupboards and draws.
When I grew up and left home, my things began dictating my life as I struggled to move my vast collection of stuff around with me. In a sense I became entombed by my things, as opposed to the pharaohs who entombed themselves with their things. But unlike the pharaohs, when I chose to move on to my next life across the Atlantic here in America, I had to leave the things I'd grown over-attached to behind. This separation from my stuff of life, though painful at the time (since it also represented stability and security), was the most freeing experience. It's one that has profoundly changed my life.
I vowed I would never again accumulate enough stuff to entrap me. It's enough to go through life weighed down with emotional baggage, without physical things adding to your load. And now, after my Granny moved into care at the start of this year, I'm seeing that the burden of her stuff has been passed on to my parents to bear. Every spare day my Mother and Father make the two hundred mile round trip to the place my Granny once called home. They spend their days there sorting through rooms full of stuff, making piles for family members, Goodwill and the trash collector. How sad, that in the twilight of my Granny's life it's her things that demand the bulk of their attention. But it's work that has to be done since the house she can no longer afford alongside nursing home fees must be cleared in order for life to move on.
Moving to America gave me a unique perspective on how much stuff actually gets in the way of life. The only things I miss from the stuff I left behind in England is my music collection. Not the physical vinyl, paper and plastic of my records and CDs, but the melodies and lyrics that made up the soundtrack of my young life. With any new music now compressed into MP3s, the most valuable possession to me is the data in my computer's hard drive, which also contains photographic memories and echoes of my thoughts, such as the words that are printed here. I often joke that my computer's memory is an extension of my mind, and my mind and my computer's carefully stores memories (which are religiously backed up) are the only two things that I really wouldn't care to lose.
Tips On How To Avoid The Accumulation of The Clutter of Life
- Rent if possible, don't buy.
- If you do buy, once you've stopped using it, pass it on.
- If you're only likely to use something once, see if you can borrow one first. Or go halves and share an item with a friend, that way you're not only sharing the cost but the storage responsibility.
- Think before you buy. Do you really need it? Where will you put it?
- If the answer to either of the above is "no" or "don't know" then leave it in the store. You need your money more than Walmart.
- Buy fair trade or from charity, or at least ethically sound, stores. That way, when you do spend money, it's not just paying for stuff, but is improving other people's lives too.
- You don't live in your own museum. Use and enjoy the stuff you do have. Everyday is a “best” day.
Leave a comment