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Contemplating The Radical: Could I Give Up (Nearly) Everything I Own?

As I prepare to move from my home but not having yet identified my new one, I am seriously contemplating what I will place into storage and what I will let go of rather than pay to house in anticipation of future use and enjoyment. A number of thoughts and factors are guiding my decision making and leading me to possibly a somewhat radical place.

I find myself toying with and returning to the thought of letting it all go. That's right, giving up everything I own save for the stuff I must keep like my computer and other work tools, client files, tax records, important documents, clothing so I don't get arrested for public nudity, etc....

I saw a news piece about things people place into storage units as they lose their homes in the recession. Several of those profiled were paying to store beat up couches, bags of broken and unloved toys, and collections of stuff that had no value to anyone but the individual. A few of the people the reporter talked with admitted that they hadn't thoughtfully considered what they were paying to store or for what purpose. That report has stuck with me as it is easy to spot another person's folly while remaining blind to your own. Ever since I've looked at what I own with a critical eye towards whether or not it is something I should pay to store and maintain especially since I eventually will give it all up one day.

Recently I drove to a house to pick up some moving boxes that were offered on Freecycle. The house they were at was in one of the neighborhoods that had been devastated in the 1991 Oakland firestorm. Many houses had been rebuilt, some were still under construction and, like the mouth of a child awaiting a visit from the tooth fairy, there were gaps where still-empty lots dotted the winding road. The sight got me thinking... what would I mourn if it was lost in a fire? What would make my life difficult if I were to lose it? What would I be able to replace if I had to start over from scratch? I can tell you that virtually everything falls into the third category.

Even my sofa. I love my sofa. It took me nearly my entire adult life to find a sofa I love. I'm apparently like the princess and the pea or Goldilocks and porridge when it comes to sofas. However, I found it. And if I found a sofa I loved once, I could find one again, I'm sure.

Some things though it strikes me that it might make some sense to store. Like my TV. I couldn't sell it for much given how quickly technology upgrades and prices fall. However, it would likely cost me several times over the cost of storage to replace it eventually so on a strict cost-benefit analysis basis, big screen TV gets a passing grade.

Pragmatic ROI considerations aside, there are more spiritual considerations. Like should I even have a big screen TV? Perhaps this is an opportunity to move on to a non-television way of life without the distraction and with the opportunity to focus on writing, reading and other potentially more enriching pursuits. Maybe I can reduce my carbon footprint and tread more lightly on the earth by responsibly recycling or passing things along an not replacing them. A radical de-cluttering might not only be good for the soul but might open up the path for non-stuff kinds of goodness to enter my life.

I suspect though that ultimately this will be a fantasy that should I ever commit to will have to happen down the road. Getting rid of stuff takes time! Time that I don't really have and energy that is flowing towards all the ancillary business of moving. I am certain that I won't stop thinking about this idea, though and if nothing else I believe it is a useful frame through which to evaluate and view everything I hold on to and bring into my life.

Have you ever undertaken a radical de-cluttering. Lost or consciously rid yourself of most of your belongings? If you've put stuff into storage how do you feel about the decision and the value of the price?

Opening Up My Personal Time Capsule

Like BlogHer CE Zandria, I'm preparing to move. Way back in January I vowed I was on a mission. October is here and I am finally actually moving. Part of my mission involved getting around to unpacking boxes I have moved around the country with me for years. And going through my boxes is like an epic episode of This Is Your Life.

In opening up and going through the boxes I'm finding bits and pieces of my past through many life stages. Without intentionally creating a time capsule, glimpses of the random ephemera of my life feels like I did.

I look different but, hairstyles, fashion and fluctuating weight aside, much the same and always like me. Like many women I look at pictures of my younger self and think "I look hot!" and wonder why I couldn't see it and only heard the voices disparaging my body and could not hear those who celebrated my appearance. I'm especially saddened when I remember the gulf between what I saw in the mirror and what I can now see. I wonder how much I'm still looking in a funhouse mirror.

I see that I've always had an urge to journal but have never been able to maintain a commitment to the practice. I can tell that by the number of journals I've found with only a fraction of the early pages written upon. What I hope is that I've managed to find some peace and optimism that I clearly could not in my angst ridden youth. I had forgotten that at age 12 I was the editor for my school's poetry and art journal. However, I had not forgotten that I wrote some really dark poetry in those days. Still I cringed when I read my "published" works. I discovered that by the time I advanced to college level classes my oeuvre of poetry along with the addition of song lyrics graduated from dark musings on the human condition to sharply bitter musings on ex-boyfriends. Perhaps if I had kept at it I could have given Alanis Morissette a run for her bitter ex-girlfriend crown.

Another important self discovery is that there are certain lessons I still need to learn. Ones that I found (and had forgotten) I have tried (and failed) in the past and are now coming up again. Hopefully I am making progress and there will not be a next time of this kind of discovery.

Not all my discoveries are cringe-worthy, though. I am delighting in finding and reading the postcards friends have sent me from their travels from around the country and the globe. Remember postcards? I also am reminded that I am so fortunate to have been surrounded by the love of friends and family like on my 30th birthday when I came across a large stack of cards full of well wishes from that occasion. On the side of bittersweet, I've found letters from friends who died far too young but whom I'm grateful to be reminded of the fortune of having had their too brief presence in my life.

I could easily go back to school (and as I dig I'm reminded of just how many years I've spent on book learning) for nothing but the cost of time. I have the voluminous binders of information from every class I took in business school. I have all my materials from the aforementioned poetry (and, classmates, I'm so very sorry) class. I have assignments and equipment from when I dipped my toe in the waters of interior design. I might have exorcised most of my political science materials. However I am delighted that I managed to hang on to my "Little Red Schoolhouse" binder from my Ph.D. days.

Although I no longer actively collect things, I have found that I could easily build well-illustrated shrines to Bruce Springsteen and Chihuahuas. Don't judge - we all have our skeleton-filled closets that create our unique charm.

My family history is also illuminated through my excavations. I've found notes from and articles about relatives who've passed on. The Kwanzaa cards remind me that we used to celebrate much more and now has tapered off almost completely. I've discovered keepsakes that remind me of the ambition and success of my sister. I've found evidence of how my family has flown around the country to come spend time with me when I've moved far from home. And I've found markers that remind me of the ways in which my parents have been there to support me, each in their own way, when I've gone through big transitions of life.

Most of all I am loving discovering the different versions of me: shy schoolgirl, book-loving nerd, fledgling political activist, emerging feminist, punk rocker, scorned lover, performance artist, junior executive, graduate (and graduate, and graduate, and graduate...), dream and goal achiever, and ordinary human being with troubles, tragedies and triumphs. Hi, Maria, nice to meet you.

Have you ever taken a trip back in time through your life? What did you find? Did anything sadden, surprise or delight you? What would you set aside now for future you to discover and be reminded of?

Book Giveaway: A Baker's Dozen

I continue to make progress in unpacking and de-cluttering.  I emptied out a box of books that I had packed away to deal with donating/recyling.  As I am being a ruthless ninja now, half the books that I thought oh, maybe, someone will want them as a resource even though they are old and out of date, are in the recycling bin.  Classics like the 2000 Zagat New York City Restaurants Survey, the 2004 Consumer Reports Buying Guide and Palm Pilot: The Ultimate Guide from 1999.  When I told you that I moved a lot of crap around unpacked, I was not kidding.

However, half the books are perfectly readable.  Nice, not too taxing and perfect for airplanes, airport delays and too exausted to think but to adrenilne hyped to sleep late night post conference hotel room fare.  In fact, most were purchased at airports. Two were read just while spending 18 hours trying to get from Hartford, CT back to Cali. All were enjoyable. I wouldn't offer you something that put me to sleep or I did not or wasn't interested in finishing. No great art but entertaining, satisfying reads if you like this sort of thing.

I was prepared to attempt to donate them to the library but I thought I'd offer them first to you, dear readers. (If I get no takers by Monday then I'll see if the library wants them and if not then freecycle then recycling bin).

If you win the Take Maria's Crap Off Her Hands Contest, I will send you a box of 13 books comprised of:

Five of the James Patterson Women's Murder Club series (this was made into the TV series starring Angie Harmon as Lindsey Boxer):

2nd Chance (PB)
3rd Degree (HC)
4th of July (PB)
The 5th Horseman (PB)
The 6th Target (HC)

Five of the James Patterson Alex Cross books (there were two movies made starring Morgan Freeman as Cross - Along Came a Spider and Kiss The Girls). There are seven prior books in the series and a few after at this point I'm sure. Patterson is a crank-em-out machine.:

2002 Four Blind Mice (PB)
2003 Big Bad Wolf (PB)
2004 London Bridges (PB)
2005 Mary Mary (PB)
2006 Cross (HC)

The additional three are:

See How They Run by James Patterson (PB)
The Devil Wears Prada
A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini (who wrote The Kite Runner)

So leave me a comment or send an email if you'd rather not announce your interest in pulp fiction to the world.  I'll count comments and emails by 11:59 pm PST Sunday, January 25, 2009.  If I get more than one "contest entry" I will be shocked and will number by order received and use a random number generator to pick.  Or I'll pick the most entertaining request.  We'll see how it goes.  I reserve the right to make up the rules as I go along :)

Give or Toss? Decorative Pillows

These are 3 decorative pillows I am not sure if I should donate or freecycle or toss.  They are 10-12 years old which means that they are likely filled with more dust mite poop than the feathers that originally stuffed the inserts.

While the pillows are in excellent condition and would be a nice addition to a home with a similar style, I would hate to offer to exacerbate anyone's allergies or asthma.  Yes, these are the things that paralyze me with fear of getting rid of my crap.

Suggestions for disposal?

A Mouse, A Sledgehammer and a Mission

I've been getting messages from the universe about my home.  Messages that I've resisted. 

I've moved many, many times in my adult life.  I'd guesstimate about every year-and-a-half since moving off to college.  I've lived in Oakland, San Leandro, San Jose, Los Angeles, Santa Monica, Torrance, West Hollywood, Westwood, Beverly Hills, Chicago, Ypsilanti, Manhattan, Valhalla, White Plains, Philadelphia, and Havertown.  I was even briefly technically homeless when my mortgage got screwed up when buying my first apartment.

Suffice it to say that I am sick of moving.  After I sold my last house (my third purchase/sale in under 4 years) I swore that I would move into an apartment while starting my business and waiting out the by-then insane housing market and stay put until I bought one more house where I would live out the rest of my life.

And when you make such determined pronouncements like that the universe enjoys laughing in your face and spitting in your eye.

I love my apartment and my neighborhood.  Though I chose it with the needs of my two dogs in mind, other than being much emptier, it still suits me now that they have departed.  And there's that whole making up my mind thing. 

However there have been problems since I moved in.  Some of which have been fixed and many of which have not.  Several of the worst ones included, the most disgusting one included.  Plus there's a spectacularly gross new one.  Hover over the pics for the gory details.

 

As Oprah is fond of telling us, when the universe wants to send you a message it starts with a whisper in the ear, then a tap on the shoulder, then a gentle nudge, and so on until you get knocked upside the head if you continue to ignore.

So I just got the sledgehammer to the cranium.  I gotta go.  And no I'm not quite ready to buy that forever house.  So my itinerant life shall resume.  Unless the universe surprises me with a dream bigger than I can dream for myself.  Hey, I'm open. :D

But there's a small problem of the many years of boxes that have gotten moved around and never unpacked because I've never stayed put long enough to put down some roots.  Though this is the longest I've lived in one place since leaving home I never unpacked here either because the problems when I first moved in made me rethink my vows and convince myself briefly that I would move the moment my lease ran out.

I'm giving up on the determined mind-making-up and going with the universal flow.  Which in my case involves finally unpacking so I can be prepared to pack and move when the time is right.

I am not a believer in the school of thought that if I haven't looked at it in all these years I must not need it.  Unfortunately I still regret some items that I have let go of through garage sales or give aways.  And, relatives who have decided on their own that I have too much stuff have thrown things of mine away.  Some of it inconsequential.  Some of it important like my passport.  Let me tell you, it's not particularly fun post-9/11 to try and get a replacement for a lost passport.

But I digress.  As much as it would make my life easier I'm not going to just toss the boxes.  I will however be ruthless in what I let go.  My biggest problem is figuring out how to deal with getting rid of crap.  I want to donate/recycle/find a good home for/re-sell as is appropriate.  That however is somewhat exhausting and leads to inaction.  So I'll be asking for your help with some of that.

Mostly, however, I am a woman possessed and on a mission and I'm going to blog it partially because I want to hold myself accountable and partially because I hope you'll be entertained.  My pain should be someone's laughter ;^)