This past weekend, I chucked my life into a truck and hauled what seems like a disproportionate amount of "stuff" to our new home. Now this "stuff" all seemed too important to let go of at the time, and while our ample storage space accommodates such mysterious accumulation, I can't help but ask myself why I have this much "stuff." The excuses piled on. Do any of these sound familiar to you?
Excuses:
1) I'm emotionally attached to this "stuff";
2) I might need it someday;
3) I've used it before... (okay, years ago, but still...); and
4) I don't have time to sift through it all right now.
Calling myself out:
So a couple days later, sitting in a thing-filled (though large and happy) apartment, I find myself reflecting on these excuses.
1) "Emotionally Attached"
If I don't remember I have something until I open the rust (and dust) lined box, how emotionally attached am I really? If, instead of opening the box I had simply hucked the container and its contents I would have had one less thing to pack, one less thing to unpack, and would have been none the wiser of what I was "missing."
2) "Future Need"
When will I need this box full of sidewalk chalk? And if I ever do need it, why can't I just pick up another box from the dollar store?
3) "Past Use"
This excuse helps to justify excuse number two when it comes to once well-used items. For example, I can probably throw out those two year old pair of running shoes. They were useful two years ago, but the ones I have now are useful... now.
4) "No time"
If I had time to pack the misc. and unknown items that are languishing in two boxes in the apartment, then I probably had time to donate them as well.
* Please note that this article does not pertain to the pathological hording of books which 1) are endowed with significant emotional attachment (especially when laden with notes, a special edition, or just... you know, you read it) 2) will always come in handy at some point in the future, 3) were obviously helpful in the past (hence will be helpful in the future), and 4) seem to overflow to the point where it would be more time consuming to sift through them and determine which ones I could pry from the new bookshelf we had to get because of my book hoarding.