Sometimes I like to look around the house and think about being dead.
I don’t mean in a suicidal way or anything of the sort. I mean looking around and wondering, “What will happen to that?” or “Will anyone want that?” or even, “I wonder how long it will take to throw that away.”
When someone dies, I find that there are two reactions when it comes to the stuff that’s left behind. Either the person or persons left let virtually no time go by and begin almost immediately throwing out, donating, selling, or otherwise giving away the collection of things the now-dead person once possessed.
The other reaction is that nothing happens. Nothing is moved. Nothing is donated. Eventually, the items become part of the house, absorbed into the everyday.
Every so often, I look around and just start pitching stuff. The thought of someone having to go through my desk, decipher my notes, looking at the nonsense I have kept makes me crazy. What a waste of time I think that would be for someone. There are days I want to live more simply – give me some books and a nice chair – and a computer – and printer – and some good pens – and a blanket. Here we go again.
When I was growing up, I remember my mom saying that if we had not used something in a year, it was no longer ours. We had to go through the closets and give things away. I dare say it was one of her finer moments that has stayed with me into adulthood.
There is too much stuff cluttering the house. The same could be said for my mind. Time to declutter.
Time to throw away.
Time to let go.
Before the winter cold sets in and now that we are through the heat of the summer, it’s time to clean the closets, give away the furniture, slim down the closets, and fill the van with donations.
Now… how to do that with my head.