Stuff Awareness

I never would have known I had so much stuff if I hadn’t gone to England.

At the time of my departure, fitting six months worth of belongings into two suitcases seemed an impossible task. Simply cutting down my things from what I “needed” to live in a house to what I would be able to fit in a college dorm had been a chore, and then I had even purchased more items to make my life “easier”; therefore I owned essentially even more stuff. Now, I had to take everything and compact it into two pieces of luggage each weighing less than 50lbs. I remember standing in front of the open, overflowing suitcases, wondering how in the world I would pare down my belongings to that size. This was not optional, however, so I managed. And do you know what? I don’t remember feeling as though I lacked a thing.

That being said, you would think I would have learned to be perfectly content with fewer things. Initially, I was certainly overwhelmed by how much I owned: a humongous bedroom full of stuff, plus a fully equipped kitchen with a persistently stuffed refrigerator, plus a living room with my own personal desk and filing system containing papers I saved for goodness-knows what reason…. I had completely forgotten I owned all of these things. What was I saving them for?

My immediate reaction was to “clean house”—start selling and giving away everything that seemed superfluous. However, I eventually convinced myself that I “might need this in the future,” or that “that might come in handy for such-and-such a reason.” Soon, all I had managed to do was move a few boxes out of my bedroom closet and into our basement. I had re-acclimated to my very suburban American, hord-ish, settled way of life.

Now I’m on the move again. This time, I have moved into another “dorm,” only I’m not in college anymore, and I have to think about moving this van full of stuff into an apartment elsewhere in New York City at the end of July. The more I think about packing and re-locating all of my belongings after only two months, the more I abhor owning so many things. I don’t really need computer speakers. I don’t really need a desktop pencil holder, or a stackable paper tray, or a bulletin board, or even a good number of the clothing and jewelry I brought with me. I could get by with less.

Still, what really takes up an increasing amount of space in my moving materials is cookware. I love cooking, and I don’t even have all of my cooking-related appliances with me. My Magic Bullet and Hot Pot are sitting in my room in Pittsburgh, just waiting for a new home where they can be used. Until I don’t have to transport them around the country multiple times a year, though, I feel forced to leave them there. They are two items that I certainly don’t need. I certainly can make do without ever making hummus or smoothies in my Magic Bullet, and I can always boil water in a pot on the stove. Likewise, however, I could easily get rid of at least one of my frying pans and almost all of my spices and still be able to eat palatable meals with ease. I bring these things with me, though, because I enjoy having a box full of spices and being able to cook multiple dishes in pans on the stovetop at once. I just purchased a baking sheet, and I am actually very excited at the versatility it is already bringing to my cooking capabilities. Part of me cannot help but think, “Oh dear—one more thing to transport to the new living abode,” but right now, when I make cookies with friends who visit from Philadelphia and Pittsburgh, I am so grateful to have it!

The bottom line is, I cannot see belongings in-and-of-themselves as bad. I look at a minimalist like my cousin, and I definitely admire her. There are huge advantages to living as sparsely as she does: namely, the ability to get up and move any time the need or desire arises. Even without owning what I would consider a disproportionate amount of clothing/furniture/etc., I still suffer from the apprehensive feeling of, “But all my stuff is already in place here.” On the other hand, I simply need good lighting too much to get rid of either of my dorm room lamps, and I enjoy cooking too much to get rid of any of my cookware (and am usually in the process of acquiring more).

It’s a tough line to walk: the consumerist-driven feeling of “too little; buy more” and the often-neglected reality of Too Much; Throw/Give Away. I only hope that in this city of neon lights and house-sized billboards, I do not becoming tied down to all of my stuff.