I’ve become super fascinated with our relationship to stuff. It’s no secret that I think as a society we have way too much stuff and that it’s filling a hole in our psyche (our soul?) that should be filled with things like kindness and love and compassion and cheese. I’m also fascinated with cheese – how can mold be so delicious?
In the past couple of years, I’ve become to feel very weighed down by the things that I own. In the last year, I’ve probably halved my possession and I’m looking to get rid of more. In the same vein, I’m trying to replace some of my lower quality items with higher quality versions that might last forever – I’m admitting this with some guilt after ordering an eighty dollar stainless steel coffee press yesterday. These are my current revelations about my own stuff issues:
- Don’t replace anything until it is all used up or until it is broken. Somehow I always end up with an extra bottle of shampoo. Except dental floss. Because I will physically die if I don’t floss my teeth every single night. This is not hyperbole, I’m an urban myth.
- “In case of emergency” mentalities are a slippery slope to hoarding. Dead pets, buried under mountains of rotting groceries, can attest to this (source: Hoarders). Seriously, though, isn’t it possible that there is a direct correlations between our society’s belief in self-sufficiency and our breakdown of community? And note I didn’t say causation. I sat in on one lecture of Statistics 203.
- Watch out for mental hoarding. I’m totally a mental hoarder. What? You need a definition of a mental hoarder? I’ve probably read twenty books about minimalism. Granted, these books came (and went back to) the public library. But still, I think I had enough information on the subject. Most of the latter half of my reading was simply justifying my own opinions.
- Libraries are the best. The librarians are forced to hoard all the stuff so you don’t have to. Also, note when the librarian seems judgey about your minimalism books – it’s their version of an intervention – pay attention!
Ooh, ooh. Minimalist books? Best 3, please. Also, “just in case” is hard for me. I’ve gotten rid of stuff that I do in fact want a month later and then the guilt of purchasing it again is trouble. But yes, this probably has something to do with the fact that I would be very embarassed to go to the neighbour’s for a cup of fair trade sweetener.
Unfortunately, minimalist books have very redundant names. I did a quick search for my favourites, but could only find one: Voluntary Simplicity
Toward A Way of Life That Is Outwardly Simple, Inwardly Rich by Duane Elgin. Also, without it in front of me, I’m unsure if this is actually the one. The book I’m thinking about is a collection of individual’s experience with minimalism. I found it very inspiring (at times). I’ll keep looking in case this isn’t the one.
A post you wrote earlier really helped me with the “just in case” stuff. The seal on our stainless steel, stove-top kettle is starting to leak. I was all ready to get a new one, but rethought it based on your “use a pot, bitch” (I think you said it nicer, but quote you I did!). I use my kettle 3-4 times a day, so we’ll see how it goes, but I’m all for one less piece of kitchen equipment.
Also, our new building has a pretty great community. Half of the tenants are at theological school students, so how can they possibly deny me fair trade sugar? My advice, get yourself to a religious institution immediately.
Cleaning out the “stuff” is addictive, less so than crack. The less I have the greater my sense of freedom and relaxation. Who needs a spa just clean out the child’s toy box
It’s even better when you force a child to watch while you clean out it’s toys. And tell the child that the toys are going in the garbage or to a child who is more worthy of them. That’s good parenting, right?