Stuff

Do you remember the old adage, "A place for everything, and everything in its place" ?

Our mothers and grandmothers would blithely offer up this little gem as the answer to all of our housekeeping needs. Like so many of the things they told us, this was all just so much well meant brainwashing. It's what their mothers told them, and they were duty bound to pass it on to us.

Why did no one ever tell me, "A place for some things, and throw everything else the hell out" ?

My love and I live simply. Not only do we not want to keep up with the Joneses, we're not entirely sure who they are. We are not obsessed with acquiring things. So how come things keep acquiring us?

My house is clean and relatively tidy, but it is over run with things. Things we love, things we tolerate, things that we no longer even see because we are so used to them, things we have no use for but may come in handy someday. Things. Everywhere.

What would happen if I came home from work tomorrow, and 70% of the things in my home were no longer there? (For this exercise, assume 70% is now gone because the De-Clutter Fairy stopped by, and not because some guy named Ricky is now pawning my jewelry and DVD player down town.)

My question actually isn't rhetorical, I want to know. How much stuff do two people actually NEED? Clearly it is far less than what we own, but where is that golden mean? How do you decide what is essential as a talisman to your past and personality, and what is extraneous? For that matter, how many ten year old T-shirts does one woman truly need? And why, when I look at my home with a purger's eye, does my gaze only fall of the things that belong to my love? Am I truly that selfish and misguided?

Or is it simply that the sheer number of objects in my line of sight has addled my brain?

I feel a purge in my future.