Thursday, August 9, 2012

I am not my stuff

My husband likes to quote Fight Club every now and then.  I never saw it or read it, but I get it.  I'm not my fucking khakis.  I read over the in-your-face, admonishing take control quotes from Fight Club over at The Minimalists.  It's a bit preachy, but all in all I agree.  So why then do I spend untold hours mooning over stuff on Pinterest?  This is a disconnect and I'm trying to muddle through it.  I know I need to be more present in the moment instead of dreaming about my perfect master bathroom that will only happen with a sizable home equity loan.  (Aside:  being present is not something I do easily, thank you ADD!)  I am cognizant that I am failing at the whole Zen thing.  (My husband also likes to quote Buddah.  Be a reed in the water.  It get's old after so many obvious failures, but I know he's trying to be supportive.)  We have come a long way, however.  I look around me and mostly see - in our house - furniture and the kids' artwork and toys.  We attempt to escort paper from the mailbox to the recycling bin on a direct flight.  It's not totally minimalist, but we're getting there.

I also realize, I (hooray for me) am not a hoarder.  Unclutterer checks out a Washington Post article by self-professed hoarder, Michael Rosenwald, and cheers him on for not being his stuff.  I don't buy things like crazy and stuff them in crannies all over the house.  I've even stopped going on my weekly Target runs.  (Again, yay me.)  But most of all, I am relieved to realize and announce to you that I am not my stuff.  For if I were my stuff, what would it likely say about me?

For starters, it would say, "I'm broken."  Or, "I'm stained beyond wearing."  Or even, "I'm broken and stained."  In a better case scenario it would say, "Hi, I'm Amy.  I am a pristine LP of Nena's "99 Luftballons" (a gag gift from my husband) sitting atop a box marked "Wedding."  In said box, I am a slog of unprinted negative sheets (dating myself) from my 2001 wedding.  If I am my stuff, I am a sad sack of unfinished projects and silly-assed crap.

But, fortunately, I'm not my stuff.

Damn, I loved that song.