WILL LIFE BE LESS BEAUTIFUL without the green shade banker’s lamp purchased for a Christmas production at a church I no longer attend? Or without the black sheer scarf from Singapore with iridescent rainbow-colored threads running along its five feet?
Will the weight of the memories attached to these things be lighter or disappear altogether once they are discarded? (Like the tree that falls in an empty forest.) Or will they birth new meaning for new owners in new forms?
Whatever the end of their stories, I will let them go.
They served me well and now lay idle, cluttering space and inviting dust. These I have no desire to have or to hold, much less clean.
But what about the others’ things taking up residence in closets, the attic and the garage? They were left behind or gathered for … what?
But if the original owners have not recognized a void, then perhaps these things can be released from my home.
Still, what if the original owners return at some future time, after reminiscing, wondering and seeking a familiar connection? Will my thoughtful purging now cause disappointment and sadness later?
Is it my responsibility to meet some potential need?
No. I think not. That is THE mission of the self-storage industry.
So what, if anything, is worthy of keeping in my house? Only the love that fills ALL the spaces yet bears no heaviness or sentimental attachment. Be moving every second and THIS thing will be no burden.
But, like Navin R. Johnson, I might need a toaster or random chair.
All that moving and wonder sometimes sinks in and you really just want to sit and enjoy avocado toast.
(By LK. Inspired by radio report that Dallas will exhaust its landfills in 56 years.)