Reflections: Stuff, Stuff, and More Stuff

I’ve been living in Bangkok for 3 months now. It’s time for some introspection:
      I left a lot behind when I moved here. I’m not talking people, I am talking stuff. I packed away an embarrassing amount of clothing, shoes, kitchenware, home decor, dry pantry items, toiletries, and other stuff. So much stuff. And, really, I had it easy. There is a house full of more stuff like couches, rugs, wall hangings, artwork, (more) kitchenwares, and stuff that I don’t even remember is there that Brian, a close friend, was kind enough not to want removed when he moved in. It makes me a little queasy even thinking about going back to all that stuff. Whatever possessed me to acquire it in the first place? 
     Well, as many of you know, I am a sucker for a bargain. Even more of a sucker for the word ‘free’. So, the vast majority (90+%) of my clothes were purchased at low-cost consignment and second-hand shops and the greater majority of my non-clothing items were acquired as hand-me-downs, gifts, or from the distribution of my late grandmother’s estate. So, in some ways, I can breathe a sigh of relief.... at least I didn’t spend an unfathomable amount of money on all that stuff. 
      But, still. What is a 22 year old woman doing with so much freaking stuff? Its not like I need it to be happy. I’ve proven that. I am perfectly content with the stuff I have in my possession right now... and all of it fits into two bags and a backpack. (And 12 lbs of it is the freaking blender I hauled halfway around the world) Even still, the amount of stuff I have here borders on too much. Case in point: I have to do laundry about once a month. Not even kidding. ONCE A MONTH. And, when I do, there are still clean things in my closet. How ludicrous is that? Positively insane.
     I like to think of myself of the kind of person who is immune from the capitalistic, ‘buy! buy! buy!’ and ‘more things=more happiness’ mantra that I often rail against and yet, here I sit, my mass of stuff, spanning the Pacific ocean, haunting me. Its a little discouraging. In some ways I would love for it to all disappear.... If, in 8 months, I get back and the 60 pounds of clothes that I vacuum bagged aren’t there to greet me, I might just breathe a gigantic sigh of relief. But I know that the easy route isn’t the answer. (And, realistically, living in a mono-climate sort of place greatly simplifies one’s wardrobe.) Once I get back to the States I will need my peacoat, my corduroys, and my scarves. Furthermore, banishing that stuff potentially sends it to the landfill and if that stuff is being unproductive in my possession, it certainly won’t be doing any good in the trash heap. (For the record, I did donate close to 70lbs worth of clothing to the Macon CrisisLine before I left. At the time I thought that was pretty nifty, now I realize I could do that again and still be left with plenty)
     I’d love to be one of those people who lives in a shipping container and can simplify their life to the point of numbering the items they own from 1-100. I’ll also be the first to admit that it will never happen for me. I, like my mother, build wunder-cabinets (a very, very Dutch practice) out of our homes. We turn them into psuedo-art/history/science/nature/family museums. Anyone who visited my house in Macon has already witnessed this. My mantels were shrines that honored anything and everything I found delightful in the world. I built cairns out of rocks on my fireplace to imbibe peace and I displayed art that I cherished to remind me of people/places/experiences that I loved. I don’t want to lose any of that. That isn’t the kind of ‘stuff’ I am talking about. I am talking about the slowly amassed, non-sentimental, utterly pointless things: Clothes, junk-mail, tupperware, knick-knacks, paper, magazines, etc etc etc. Needless to say, I will say that I will be making a conscious effort to reduce the amount this nonsensical stuff in a few key ways:
1.   I’ll be going through the masses of stuff I left behind and re-evaluating what I use it for and how my life would change without it.
2.    I won’t be getting more stuff just for the sake of satisfying a momentary longing for it. I didn’t think I did this to begin with; I am one of those people that mulls over big purchases for an achingly long time BUT I clearly need to do some more mulling, especially in the clothing department... even when I find a rad shirt at Goodwill for $0.10 that would work perfectly for Halloween 2023. Nope, not going to play that game anymore.
3.    I will resist my genetic disposition to be a pack-rat. I come from a long line of them and, frankly, I don’t want my grandchildren wading through cabinets containing an army’s worth of meticulously cleaned, re-used and stored ziplocks, tupperware, and take-out containers after I kick the re-used, meticulously-clean, bought-for-a-bargain, old-Dutch bucket...(Both my grandmother’s were guilty of this). So far, genetics are winning. I can do better than that.


Further 3-month anniversary reflections on the horizon...