The Seattle Times’ Pacific NW Magazine captured the problem of what George Carlin referred to as our “stuff” in a story a few days ago (“Too much stuff: We collect it all our lives, and then what?“).
These paragraphs seemed to be describing my own situation exactly, as I’m still not finished sorting the stuff my parents collected over their long lives.
For many of us — especially baby boomers — stuff has become a burden too heavy to carry alone. Parents die or become ill, and suddenly there’s a whole other household of stuff to deal with. China, books, shoes, papers, old television consoles, mink coats and dusty felt hats from the Disneyland trip 40 years ago.
So we hire junk removal companies to clear out basements and attics. We hold garage sales and engage liquidators to sell off what they can. We rent dumpsters and haul our stuff to charities to sell for a good cause, creating an endless churn of stuff looking for new homes until we run out of options and simply throw it away.
I’ve thrown mountains of stuff away, disposed of some via Freecycle, dropped boxes of oddities with our friends at Antique Alley, sent carloads off to Goodwill, contributed to the well-stocked shelves at Savers, sent several boxes of papers to be archived at the University of Hawaii’s Hamilton Library, and I’m dreading having to return to the boxes of things that survived the first cut in order to further whittle down what’s being saved.
The “things” aren’t the hard part. It’s the information, correspondence, old clipping files, research notes, court records, land deeds, photos, household records, and other memorabilia that tell the story of other times and places. I have real trouble consigning these to the land fill.
As the article says, somethings our stuff isn’t just “stuff.”
Turns out that guilt and sentimentality — powerful feelings attached to the things we own — are reasons we hang onto stuff.
How do you get rid of Grandpa’s lucky football hat or the cranberry-colored glass dish your great-grandmother used to rest her powder-puff? How do you dispose of a library your mother spent a lifetime building, or discard the hulking kitchen table from your childhood home, even though it doesn’t fit in your apartment? The vintage toy collection inspires happy memories of childhood. The carved coconut reminds us of our honeymoon in Hawaii.
And that’s why the process of sorting and deciding is mentally exhausting. I do it for a few hours and I feel wrung out.
In any case, it’s a good, thought-provoking article. Worth a read on this Monday morning.
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I relate so well to this dilemma. I have my mothers saved items. My daughter has my antique furniture etc. that was in storage after I sold my home, downsizing. She shipped all to her home in Florida. When I visited, she asked me to sort. I began, but couldn’t complete, ” This my life”, I explained. I left it to her to sort and I won’t ask questions.
I toss every three or four years because there’s no one else who wants any of The Stuff.
But what will the archeologists of the future have to piece together the threads of our previous existence?
For some family heirloom items or non-valuable but sentimental items (high school sports trophies) I take a photo of them before discarding or donating. I keep a momento book of these photos.
I keep the memory, but in a way that is much easier to physically store!
It’s even tougher when a spouse has a different level of pack rat-ness. Then you get into endless discussions about the metaphysical value of Stuff.
I think that the guilt component is very real.
I have the decision on whether to save framed photos of unknown relatives that were of importance to my father. They have no meaning to me but there is a guilt factor in just chucking them in the trash.
As E. B. White wrote, “The trouble with worldly possessions is their reluctance to return to the world.” Documents and photos can at least be scanned which solves the space problem if not the attachment one.
We moved last year, downsized our home from 2000 sq ft to 1000 sq ft. The question I asked over and over was, is this (the object,) worth it to pay to move it. Almost everything was donate, donate, donate.
It’s astounding how much stuff we collect, that seemed so important at the time of purchase, that we forget we even have!
Thanks for bringing this up…I think I’ll schedule a closet purge tomorrow.
Have been working at downsizing physical stuff for a while now. At an old age, I look at all the things our sons will have to sort through and I’m trying to make decisions so they won’t have to. How many photos of our twin grandkids in their darling Christmas outfits are needed for anyones remembrance…..certainly not the 20 grandma took! I’m getting more heartless by the day.
On the out-of-control cost of children’s kindergarten birthday parties:
http://www.bbc.com/news/business-32116506
There is a connection between rampant consumerism and child-rearing practices. On how spoiled little children have taken over American society:
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2012/07/02/spoiled-rotten
If American children are more spoiled than other children, and American adults more immature, this could be part of a general historical process in which adulthood is delayed for greater periods in direct proportion to the sophistication of a species or a culture.
Then again, perhaps not:
The problem is democracy.
Or at least the spirit of democracy.
In 1776, British colonists in the New World declared independence from their home country. By 1777, their leaders had drafted the Articles of Confederation, which were ratified by all thirteen states by 1781.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Articles_of_Confederation
This confederacy, however, with a very weak centralized government, proved to be unworkable and dysfunctional. In 1789, the Articles of Confederation were replaced by the Constitution of the United States. This represented a rejection of democracy and an embrace of republicanism.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Republicanism_in_the_United_States
One issue in republicanism is the conflict between republican virtue and prosperity. Republicanism demanded austerity and self-sacrifice, as embodied in the ancient Greeks and, especially, the Romans. But the pursuit of self-interest was a basic liberty, as found in the classical liberalism of the Enlightenment. Financial institutions like banks were in particular objects of loathing to republicans.
In the 1830s, and especially with the election of President Andrew Jackson, there was a shift toward the ethos of democracy, even while the institutions of American government remained republican (i.e., elected leaders rather than popular participation). The spoils system that he introduced was a big step toward corruption, what republics fear most (perhaps more than enemies). Likewise, whereas in a republic the role of government is seen as protecting minorities, Jackson signed and carried out the Indian Removal Act. Like a republican, however, Jackson was opposed to a national bank (the equivalent to the modern Federal Reserve); but his antipathy toward the national bank seems not to have been rooted in a republican disdain of commerce, but in anti-elitism.
We still live in a Jacksonian country, with a republican form of government and a democratic ethos and identity. (In comparison with the British, it is said that the UK is a republic masquerading as a monarchy, whereas the US is a republic pretending to be a democracy.) And the legacy of this Jacksonian culture is vast wealth and power, in which ordinary people are ambitious and aggressive and dream great dreams, and in which vast energies are liberated and expended to the end of economic prosperity. Unfortunately, other people and nations can be seen in such a society as obstacles or distractions in the great drama of My Story of Success. There is a connection between how democratic a society is and how patriotic or nationalistic it is, and a connection between nationalism and ethnocentrism, and a connection between all of the above and imperialism. (The more democratic a society, the more imperialistic it supposedly is; e.g., when the Roman Empire transformed from a republic to a kingdom after Julius Caesar, its pace of expansion slowed.)
What’s interesting is that this whole historical tension or debate between democracy and republicanism is alien to non-Western countries, but it is now seemingly alien to Americans.
On the one hand, Americans seemingly have no interest in direct participatory democracy. In fact, interest in something like the town meeting was historically limited to New England. That is, it is impressive that the town meeting finds its roots in New England stretching back to 150 years prior to the American Revolution, but it really doesn’t seem to have taken root elsewhere in the US. It just never really caught on.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Town_meeting
But Americans have little interest in the austerity and self-sacrifice required of republicanism. It seems alien, it seems to have died out two centuries ago.
Anyway, I remember reading years ago when I was a kid (okay, decades ago) that one of the Founding Fathers asserted that children should be brought up in a state of deprivation to prepare them for the hard life of a citizen-soldier in a republic. He said that a child should have a favorite toy taken from him every day, or worse. Of course, that’s rather mild compared to child-rearing practices in ancient Sparta. But what could be more different from this society than deliberate austerity?