Monday, February 27, 2012


I think I've finally reached a point where I realize I have too much stuff. I was looking at my bookshelves the other day, thinking there are books here that I have not touched in years. Heretical thought, but it actually occurred to me that I don't need to keep them all. Maybe I could pare it down to one bookshelf of books -- books I received as gifts, books that I have a deep connection to. And why do I have over 100 CDs on a shelf? I haven't touched a CD since I got my first iPod, over 3 years ago. I have dishes I don't use, clothes I don't wear, movies I don't watch. Why?

I just don't need all this, and I don't even know how I reached a point that I have all of it. Maybe I have just developed the opposite of hoarding -- the sudden realization that all this stuff has a psychic weight. I'm not ready to strip my life down to some cushions on the floor in an empty room. I'm not going to give away all my possessions and live like a hermit in a cell. I like comfort far too much.

But I can finally look at the things in my house, and just see stuff.

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