The Story of Stuff: Guest Blog Post by Dana Welty
I THOUGHT I was a minimalist.
I read a LOT about the burden of stuff before a big move in ’07. I purged. I purged more once I moved. And I QUIT buying things.
The year 2020 has comprised, along with its already unpredictable plans of pandemic and social unrest, a move for me. I’ve known about this move since September of ’19. And so it began: “The Great Purge of 19-20.” Like a freight train barreling its way through a small town – sudden awareness came to me: I was so NOT a minimalist.
As I began the pursuit of minimalism this time, there were some key mantras I repeated as I consciously went through every tub, drawer and closet before carelessly transporting stuff to yet another state.
This stuff was right for a season. That season is now over. Keeping my now 21-year-old child’s clothes does not make him two again. Chances are the family of the future will not desire those clothes as I did not desire the childhood clothes of my husband’s for my son. I found great joy in giving my son’s baby bed, bathtub toys and jumping airplane to a family who needed it all the while saying to myself, “WHY do I still have this?”
I don’t need twenty of my ancestors’ possessions to honor their legacy. I’m not giving away my grandmother. I’m giving away her stuff and not her SPECIAL stuff, just her stuff.
Keep the things that tell the stories. Repeat. When my husband’s grandmother began to see the time coming where she would need to pack up and move to a smaller place, she began to ask us to pick out things we might want to go ahead and take. I picked two small vases that were a part of her bathroom shelf decor. They had always been there since I became a part of the family. When I picked them, I discovered the importance of the story of stuff. She began to tell me the story of the pink vases.
“Because George (her husband) worked for TVA, we moved a lot. I paid a lady to help me pack all my things up carefully. She was so kind and helpful that I invited her to come with me on a trip to visit friends. I let people know that I would be bringing my friend with me. They knew she was African American and they told me they would find her a different place to stay. I told them in no uncertain terms, ‘She will stay where I stay!’ So we went and she did. Not long after that, I received those vases in the mail. She was so grateful to me for treating her like a human that she sent me a gift. They had a few chips and I glued them back together because there’s no telling how much she sacrificed to buy those.”
Those vases set my strongest filter in place beyond the utilitarian items. Does this item have a story to tell? When I moved, those vases went into a tub that traveled with me of my most precious stuff – the stuff with a story, not the stuff that was an impulsive buy off of a shelf.
What I discovered is that I had a lot of stuff with no story. The only story some things were telling was “Here I am to make your life harder by holding on to me, dusting me, storing me and moving me.” When I unpacked, there were no statements of “WHY on earth do I still have this?” And more “This reminds me of a person who cared enough to share their story with me.”
Allow what stuff you have to tell, create and extend your own stories. Those stories are the things that need to be passed on. The story will last long after the stuff .
