living in a material world

I’d like to say I’m halfway through this packing thing. But even with a nearly empty closet, more thinly packed cupboards, the relocation of my office and books, and several empty shelves in this place, I feel as though I’ve only just started.

It’s a thing to do… and a thing I ought just go ahead and do without thinking too much on it. Except… this time, that’s rather the point. I am thinking about it. Thinking about whether I really should be packing up this item to keep, to store, or to use ever again. And… you know… that is actually a bit difficult.

It shouldn’t have to be… and yet it’s like so many of my objects are talismans, holding a bunch of memories and emotions. Sure. Some of them stay in a box and reveal their hidden powers until I open that box, decide if they are worth keeping, say yes, and close it up again. Really? How does that in any way contribute to my way of life? How does stuff make me a better person? How does holding onto an inanimate thing give me more in my day to day?

It doesn’t. In fact, holding onto some of these things is just holding onto emotions that are just as much clutter as the physical manifestation of their dust collecting non-use.

Obviously moving makes me think about this. But as I hear stories of people across the state losing everything… wherein you often hear the quote… it’s just stuff… I can’t help but to wonder a. what if I lost everything, and b. if it is really just stuff and doesn’t matter as much as my person and the persons in my life, why do I bother keeping it all?

I am not a material person – in case you haven’t gleaned that from other posts. I don’t care about brand names or even physical perfection with so many things that I own, like clothes and my car. I care more about function and the proportion of usefulness to its cost. For the most part…. I do have a few indulgences.  And the point here is that I still manage to have too much stuff.

I want to change that. But disengaging from physical realities is exhausting. Because there is a displacement of so many intangibles into certain objects… especially if it is a gift from someone I like and wish to think of fondly… even if the present is not so fond. But… sigh… really… even then, it is still a thing. A thing of nothing.