The idea of living a simple life is incredibly appealing to me (hmm…I initially typed “appalling” rather than “appealing”…my subconscious is getting the best of me today). My brother lives this way. Basically everything he owns, aside from his car and record credenza, fits in a hockey bag. It’s pretty remarkable. There’s a reason he can up and move to another city or country just about any time he wants to.
I have an astounding collection of “stuff” that I’m trying to weed my way through. I just don’t need most of it. My collection of Christmas crap alone is unimaginable. I’m looking forward to digging all the Christmas stuff out this year for one over-arching reason: whatever I don’t put up or out is going straight to the Goodwill. I have high hopes that I’ll be able to lighten my load significantly.
I still believe that “stuff” regenerates every time I take a load of things to the Goodwill. About once a month, I’ll take a trunk full of things to donate and when I come back home, it seems my house and garage haven’t gotten any less cluttered. It’s a very strange phenomenon. There’s always something else to straighten or shred or throw away or give away or clean or sell. It’s a never-ending process.
I live in a very dichotomous world when it comes to this. I love having “stuff” and “things,” but every time I think about moving, I wish I had about a third of the things I have. I hate packing and moving. It would be so much easier if I could just throw all my stuff in a hockey bag, jump in the car, and peace out. Alas…it would take a team of movers (and friends) to get my crap packed up. Sigh.
So yes, living the simple life sounds like a pretty good idea to me. Now to clean out the sheds…