Clutter

My line of work allows me to see how much crap the average person accumulates in a lifetime. In many cases, even just accumulation over a shorter time can be staggering. It is often my job to dispose of that accumulation and that duty has hardened me as to such "items."

Needless to say, I now look at my basement and my garage differently. This past weekend I attacked the garage and, as a result, it's much more spacious now. That same weekend Jen and I donated 87 books to the library. 87! How many were I going to read again? Probably none.

I am now on a mission to get rid of everything I can spare. We should all remember that things are just things. Memories matter. Absent memories, things become trash. Take it from someone who facilitates the disposal of things that inspired memories for people who are now gone. Ultimately, it's all just trash. It's merely a function of time.

Although I realize much of the personal property accumulated by people has some special meaning, a simple test should determine whether or not something merits preservation. The test I am attempting to apply is this:

1) Have I searched for it during the past year?
2) If I keep it, do I imagine I will search for it again in the next year?
3) Does it have "special" sentimental value? (merely sentimental is insufficient).

I have had to struggle with some belongings just as anyone would. Items that belonged to my father, items that bring back memories and or were gifts from the departed have been difficult to toss. I am even trying to justify holding on to my father's car. It is a hockey puck on the ice, old, temperamental and expensive to maintain. If it wouldn't cause a riot in the family, I would probably sell it. (I may do just that anyway).

The short of it is that, even though it was my father's car, it is just a car. I remember riding in it to UVA games as a kid. I remember being taken to middle school in the morning and enduring the cold air in lieu of a working defrost. I remember riding in the hatchback all the way to DC.

But, do I need to keep the car to keep those memories? There is only one answer, and it is simply "No."

My biggest weakness has been an unwillingness to throw away anything related to school. In 20 years of school, I have accumulated a small mountain of notes. I have finally taken the step to get rid of it all. I had schoolwork from elementary school, high school, college, law school and the bar exam preparation. Some of those papers remain in my mother's home. Well, it's all going away. Why? Simple: I will never reference those again. I even finally recycled all the cases I printed to research my law review comment.

Much like memories from "things," the notes became a part of me and preservation of the physical manifestation of my education is ultimately meaningless. In fact it could become some vain attempt to preserve or display the work that was done. Trust me, this was not an easy decision for me. Those boxes might as well be filled with a lifetime of blood, sweat and tears.

I do not think I will finish my project for many, many months, but I am determined to keep working at it, room by room and box by box.

In a world where too much plastic seeps into the population by the minute; where not a month goes by without some form of holiday or celebration; and where we are all prone to pack-ratish behavior, I am ready to push back against the tide.

I have not yet missed one thing donated or thrown away and I do not imagine it will happen. It is actually a liberating feeling.

So, ultimately, preservation of a shirt simply because it was purchased for me by my father years ago does little to further his legacy of generosity when it could just as easily clothe someone who truly needs it.

I guess it's time to donate that Tony Gwynn shirt he bought me that I never wore.