STUFF

Note: I wrote this piece over a year ago after a storm ravaged our property and flooded our basement, evidenced by broken windows, the downing of 100 year old trees and the saturation of oodles of objects. Yet, the essence of the message continues with me today. Stuff continues to live outside and within me. Stuff that no longer is serving a need and whose occupation of space is limiting me from expanding and from Being. So, my journey continues as I strive to eliminate STUFF........
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Snap!

I had been saying it for years. “I wish I could snap my fingers and everything I would never USE again would be with someone who NEEDS it.” And then I would add, “Please God, don’t give me a fire.” I never added, “Nor a flood.”

And while piles of saturated possessions became useless to anyone in the aftermath of the rising water which without hesitation took its place in our home….trillions of drops I imagine…I came to a new appreciation of my wish and the power of prayer.

Stuff.

The physical and the emotional take up space in our lives, in our minds, often leaving little place for new things and ideas and feelings to enter. How attached had I become to things that I had no use for anymore? To possessions that had no lingering meaning. To clutter that cluttered my life. To items that required thoughtless dusting. To goods that someone, somewhere could find useful, enjoyable and even a necessity.

Stuff.

The years flit by. The children grow. Does that toy do for them what it does for me, evoking tender memories so distinct that it seems as if the wrapping paper exposed it only moments ago? Or has the memory faded joining the composite of their childhood recollections?

What do we save? And why do we save it? For whom? For what? For when will we ever do anything but let this stuff clutter our space when somewhere, someone would be happy and grateful for what remains a dust collector in our life.

Don’t get me wrong. It takes courage for me to purge. It causes emotional upheaval. And yet when it’s gone and the shelf is empty or the floor has a place for nothing or something, how do I feel now?

Freedom has no price, as did the possession that claimed its space. And as someone recently said to me, “The more you own, the more it owns you.” Freedom is tantamount to having space in which to be free…. physically, mentally and emotionally.

Stuff.


© 2008. Nancy H. Rothstein