And All That Stuff

I have been meeting quite a few people lately - about to be or recently retired - who have come to acknowledge just how much stuff they have accumulated during their lifetime: furniture and furnishings, automobiles, multiple homes, silverware, glassware, knickknacks, linens, books, home entertainment centers - and all the goo-gahs that fill them up - four-wheelers, motorcycles, jewelry……..

The two limitations to this collection addiction have been the amount of money they had to spend, and the space to display them. What drove all of us to buy these things in the first place, well, each one of us can explain that to ourselves. [To bastardize Karl Marx: “To each according to his wants…..”]

But what do we do with all this stuff?

The lazy option is to do nothing and simply go on with life as it has been.

When you finally depart this world imagine your child or children walking through the door of your home. A few things will be kept and cherished because of a memory they have attached to them, others will be treated like a pariah: they probably haven’t had the heart to tell you how much they couldn’t stand your favorite chair, or those earrings you thought you looked so good in. So, even if there are multiple siblings, once they are done divvying up the wanted spoils most of your stuff will go on the market, to eBay, or an estate buyer or auctioneer.

That’s the reality of it.

But each one of us has possessions that are really more than just things.

Those that are important to me, for example, have a memorable story or person tied to them. But who else knows that? And even if I record the circumstances, can you impart a sense of emotion, the feelings from a life’s event to your child, children or sibling, simply by leaving a note or including it in your will?

My answer is to make a list of all the emotionally significant material possessions I have. [Sorry, Hannah, I already sold The Rolls, the house in Palm Beach, and gambled away the proceeds in Las Vegas.] None of which have any real street value. Then I’m going to talk to my daughter about them; tell her about the three generation French knives I have and use each day, or the coronet that my grandfather used to play. [For that I promised myself to start taking lessons. I’ve just been too busy.]

Maybe she’ll smile each morning, as I do, at the laughing Buddha that I got as a gift from a Chinese friend in Beijing in ‘96? Or marvel at the tiny, hand-sized twisted silver-wire bicycle I bought from a street vendor in Madrid in ‘82?

On the other side of the process is her turning up her nose or laughing at much of what she considers simply junk. Even the best salesmen have losers that can’t be given away.

To dispose of those leftovers there are always other family members or friends to offer them to. Once through that list, however, if it can’t be chopped up and provide heat from the fireplace then those black 50 gallon plastic bags are made for a purpose.

Following this process will enable you to “downsize” your life, which is another word that I have been hearing a lot lately.

By exerting this effort now, you can relax and turn your time and energy to enjoying it instead.

You should have realized anyway by now that most of the things that surround you play no significant part in that at all.

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