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Stuff.....who needs it?

10/30/2015

11 Comments

 
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It’s a tough pill but I’ve come to the realization that I don’t want the same things anymore.  I’ve spend the past few decades building a  nest, placing it high above all else, but now as I look around my home I truly believe I’ve wasted my time and a whole lot of money. 

Why did I need a grandiose nest in the first place?  I’m not a Queen worried about appearances.  All the things I thought were necessities I could have lived without.  That doesn’t take away from their beauty; but at this point if something isn’t functional or practical, what purpose does it really serve.  I think maybe this is a sign of sometime, perhaps a brain tumor? This is so out of character for me, the gal that once screamed “It’s mine” as I spied a piece of blue and white china from across the room at a flea market now wants nothing, needs nothing, desires for nothing.  What happened to me?  Who is that gal staring back from the mirror that coveted things and went batshit crazy if I didn’t get it in my hot little hands?
 
Stuff does nothing to enhance or support my life, and maybe at this point my thoughts are mainly for good health and acquiring longevity.  Unless I’m buying groceries, everything else is a waste of money.  All the stuff in my house, except for the bed, appliances and toilet is just stuff, things, desires, unnecessary wants I thought I needed, thought I would die if I couldn’t have them, and became almost manic getting the deal done and hustling the object into the car or waiting for it to appear in the mail.  Surely, if I get the latest item, my home would be complete and my life would finally be fulfilled. I was deceived by my own brain into thinking it all mattered but it was all a big, fat lie.  

I’m not sure when this paradigm shift began to come about; it snuck up on me so gradually I didn’t realize it was here until it tapped me on the shoulder with its harsh reality.  “Hey there”, the little voice inside my head mocked, “this stuff doesn’t make you a better person!”

 The soup tureen in my dining room was the instigator of discontent.  The bitterness I felt when I looked at it shocked me.  What a useless piece of crap it turned out to be, and I shouldn’t be mean about it, I’m the one that insisted on having it and then never gave it a second thought.  It’s been gathering dust for several decades.  It’s a beautiful piece of china but about as necessary as breasts on a fence post.  I found a few dead bugs in it over the years, so at least it was enjoyed by something.   And while I'm on blue and white china how many cow creamers does one need?   The five that have never been used at my house?  Guess that would make the answer none!

Since the boat came on the scene I’ve changed.  Ironically her name is Catalyst, and she was just that, the catalyst of my transformation.  Yes, it’s true, she is yet another acquisition, an expensive piece of stuff to boot, but with her it’s different.  She actually gives something back unlike the stuff sitting on the mantel collecting dust.  The simple pleasure of being on the water is the only dream I need.  I can’t describe the feeling it wraps me in but I am contented at long last.  Finally an object, a thing, a possession that brings true bliss, the long lasting kind, not the temporary fleeting, Adrenalin rush high that burns out like a flash fire.   I can stop running on the consumer hamster wheel, I’ve finally found a purchase that really brings happiness.    The lifelong search for satisfaction is over and I can put away my wallet.    
 
George Carlin had a great stand-up routine about stuff.  I’d recommend listening to it sometime.  It’s hilarious because it hits the truth in us all.  Your house is only a place for your stuff, if you didn’t have so much stuff you wouldn’t need a house.  It’s a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get more stuff…and on and on the laughter rolls.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvgN5gCuLac

I used to think, how could I ever part with my stuff and better yet, how can I take it all with me?  Downsizing as an elder to a single floor dwelling with half the space I’m used to, how could I ever do that?  There was strong resistance to the idea and I usually fought it by hoping I’d die in my sleep, never having to part with all my little trinkets, novelties, ornaments, baubles, gimcrack, curios, tchotchkes, mementos and the wall to wall furnishings, the entire soup of meaningless items that fill ones house and leaves the soul empty.  

Now the list is small that I’d consider taking with us in a move.  My hubby and pups, a bed, dishes for four,  fridge, stove, washing machine and dryer and  clothing, one ½ ton truck worth of stuff to move into our virtual, bungalow style home built for ease of living instead of slaving away at maintenance and upkeep.  I’m thinking a brick exterior, strong enough to withstand the big bad wolf and Canadian winters.  I’m thinking one level, an eat-in kitchen, a bedroom with bathroom attached, a medium sized communal family room for crafts, TV, that would play double duty as a guest room with one of those Murphy beds and all open concept for better heating and cooling.  Why I ever needed two spare rooms for company that rarely visit and a huge bathroom that only hears a handful of flushes a year, I’m not sure. 

And even more questions persist.  Why do I own a ton of jewelry that is never worn and clothes, even though I pared them down there is still more that have tags or no longer fit the middle aged me.  Stuff with memories attached, my wedding dress and in that I mean just a regular off the rack dress, a handmade suit of Stewart Tartan wool that I fondle occasionally with pads that gave me the shoulders of a hulk.  Why do I need to hang on to things?  What does it say about me?   I have drawers full of stuff that are never used, in bureaus that wouldn’t be needed, if not for the piles of crap in them.  There are dishes in the cupboards that rarely fulfill their purpose. 

For instance, back to that soup tureen, I have three of them that have never seen soup.  One came with a hefty price tag of $300.00, the most wonderful Burleigh Blue Willow China with ladle and I remember lusting over it, needing it for the dinner party I never had.  It arrived, I took it out of the box, caressed it for a few seconds, and never thought twice about it again.  It sits on a shelf and I pay someone to dust it.   Now I see it for what it really is, a waste of our hard earned money.  It was a temporary feel good moment, a small drop in a bucket that had a big hole in the bottom.   

I used to think my home was a reflection of myself.  But that would make me hollow, a show piece on the outside that doesn’t get much use on the inside.  Who was I trying to impress?  I’m not a social butterfly and don’t entertain, only close friends get through the door and they don’t care what my house looks like. They’d come over if I lived in a two by four outhouse, the skinny ones at least.   All the fluff certainly doesn’t make me a better person.  If I lived in a cardboard box under a bridge and had dirt under my fingernails, I’d still be the same old me.  Why did I need to be surrounded by all this pretentiousness? 

It’s what we all do; buy stuff we don’t need, maybe even go into debt to acquire it.  Back then that $300.00 tureen was a bloody jab to our bank account.  I was immature and foolish and selfish; the trifecta of bad decision making.   It doesn’t make sense to me anymore.   Maybe I finally get it.  

If someone came to us and said I’ll give you X number of dollars for your house, take your clothing and the pups and leave I’d say, “Ciao Bella!”  If I could blink and twitch my nose and it would all be gone and I’d be living a simple life with few possessions, only the most prized and sentimental would remain.  I’d be a happy “Little” minimalist.  Hubby would appreciate it; he’s been hinting we have too much clutter for years.   I was always defensive when he said we had too much stuff and that was guilt thinking, deep down I knew he was right and that I was out of control.   I apologized to him the other evening, shed a few tears and he forgave me, probably did a high five inside that my reign of wasteful spending is over.  Maybe now we can put some money aside for retirement so he can stay home instead of working until his 90’s. 

Once I had a dream and someone asked, “How would you feel if your house burned down and you lost everything?”  I’ll never forget the answer.  I said, “I’d be relieved,” and woke up in a sweat. I wonder what Fraud would say about that?  Obviously my subconscious got all the brains.   

I won’t lie and say I don’t appreciate all that I have because I do.  I love my home and feel very proud and comfortable in it but, and there’s always the but to negate the previous statement…..I’m a slave to it all and I no longer want to be held hostage by stuff. 
  


11 Comments
Adena
10/30/2015 10:19:25 am

I get it, I have been downsizing for years. Every time I have moved in the past 15 years it has been to a smaller place with less "stuff" each time moving with me. Except, of course, my wool smile emoticon. I think it's an age thing....

Reply
Jane
10/30/2015 11:00:14 am

Need to do this as well! Sigh!

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joyce
10/30/2015 12:21:53 pm

stuff..haven use it in 1 year it gone to the Goodwell store
not my wool lol :)

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Ruth
10/30/2015 12:24:07 pm

Good for you...your blog could have been written by me.....it is sooooo freeing! Enjoy...btw having already done this if I had to do it again I would either give it all away or hire someone to sell it. That was a lot! Of work! Have fun!

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Marye
10/30/2015 03:08:38 pm

It's what we all do. My daughter says she doesn't want "my stuff" and it's a sure bet my sons and their wives don't so why did I have to have it?

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Marolyn
10/30/2015 03:09:17 pm

It's what Maritimers do!

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Judith Stevens Burgess
10/30/2015 05:56:46 pm

Well, Christine, I have a new respect for you. I too enjoy the nice things in life but I agree that they are pretentious at best. Things don't bring us happiness. So if you have had an "ah-hah" moment, go for it. We are often held prisoners by our possessions, all the while needing to be freed from them. I salute you!

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Shannon
10/31/2015 02:23:26 pm

I think it is an age thing. I have a few years on you. While I would not say my stuff is pretentious much of it is sentimental. Sent 2 carloads full to goodwill, the rest will be listed on kijiji or Facebook where there are lots of 2nd hand buyers. It is cathartic for sure. Sold my couch and loveseat for cheap to a uni student and threw in some items for free. I hope they are happy in their new home as I sure don't want them here clogging up space any more. It's just stuff. Right?

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Carol Henker
11/2/2015 07:51:27 am

I feel happy for you because you seem very happy to have let the concept of possessing 'stuff' go. I, too, am sorting and downsizing a lot for the same reasons. It's hard to cast off things that belonged to generations before me, and that my mother, who didn't have a lot, considered her treasures. Like others now, my kids don't want anything silver or fragile, and it has little meaning to their spouses.
It's a big deal to purge a lifetime of what we consider our valuables, from our lives, but at the same time it is a huge favor to have this done before we pass on. Good luck Christine! I wish you total happiness and peace with what you wish for.

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Suzanne Chaddock
11/2/2015 11:39:57 am

Christine ... I applaud your thinking. Reading your blog you could have been writing about me. I am trying to reach the same place.
Congrats!

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Margaret
11/4/2015 06:12:29 am

I think when you get to this point, it means you are content with yourself and your life now. It is a battle soemtimes to get rid of things, especiially those with family connections. So clear out those closets and get rid of things you haven't thought of in ages. If you don't remember having it you don't need it....except for wool and all things hooking related!

Reply



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