You (probably) have too much stuff.

1. You know, reading your example and before I followed the link, I thought to myself “Yes, too much for stuff. But seems reasonable, for books.”

   And I see that Mr. Graham feels the same way. I’ve been on a steady path towards getting rid of my “stuff” for a couple of years now. Books are the hardest to tackle. Unlike tools, I can’t judge them broken or useless or unneeded. And unlike sentimental items, I can’t compress them all into a single container to be forgotten about until whenever. I’ve had some success with giving them away to good homes, but even that is hard.

2. Here in Charlottesville, at the recycling center, there’s a book exchange shipping container. Leave a book, take a book. I recently left about a dozen old tech books there — O’Reilly’s MySQL/mSQL, a PHP book from the PHP 3 era, etc. That was nice to do, and I’ve picked out another dozen that I intend to take there, too.

   The tough thing is knowing what books that you’ll want to read or refer to again. I will refer to “Cradle to Cradle” regularly, for years to come — it’s not going anywhere. But my friend Joe recently gave me a copy of Heinlein’s “Waldo.” I’m done with it now. And that brings me to what I think is going to be an easier way to get rid of books: give them to friends (as you suggest). “Waldo” was good, but I’ll never read it again. I know a couple of people who might enjoy it, though, so I’ll give it to one of them.

   Now that I think about it, I should just make a big list of books that I want to give away and e-mail ’em to a bunch of friends and tell them to take their pick. My friends get books, I get more space, everybody wins.

3. Not me Waldo! My family cured me of that, which is why I hate to visit my family. Seriously. My Mom’s house is a travesty to the senses. When I stay (God I HATE to stay!) ONE night at Christmas I don’t have room to get dressed; I literally have to stand in one spot! The trick is not to have a BUNCH of stuff, just really NICE stuff. Elegant minimalism. :)

4. Mmm, I am more than well aware that I need to get rid of some stuff as I pack up to move… most of it is books, which isn’t that bad, I guess. What I did was take two (not huge) boxes and limit myself to what I could fit in those two boxes. Everything else is either going or my parents/random friends have grabbed already.

5. My general mantra (which my wife is no doubt tired of hearing in its various incarnations) is that I’d much rather buy memories of experiences than memories of things.

6. My family is working to clean up the clutter in our home. The tough item for me is photos. For the rest of the items, there is a nice consignment shop that I take the items in great shape, then donate the items in good shape to local charities. Books are tough to give away so I have been trying not to buy so many and use the library more. Thanks for all the great green tips!

7. Waldo, you obviously don’t have kids. I’ve got too much stuff, but it’s because the house is full of toys, bought by my parents and (at times) my lack of desire to deal with a temper tantrum at Target when I just need some diapers.

8. Books are not stuff. I did however sort through and give away a bunch when I moved a year ago. Hmm, I don’t have a mortgage and I don’t pay rent, but I think stuff other than books takes up psychic space. My personal pet stuff peeve is the huge binders every council or taskforce I’m on gives me, good for a door stop and nothing else.

9. Ha, I have a whole bin of those binders Alison mentions.

   My stuff problem is that it takes so much time to keep your room or desk clean when you’ve got a lot of it. And when my life gets especially busy, I /don’t/ have time to do that and my housemates get (understandably) annoyed.

   Having been quite poor at one time in my life — too poor to buy new clothes when mine wore out — I hoard clothes. Now, I haven’t bought very many in the past few years because a kind person gave me a LOT of clothes that no longer fit her and were in good condition. And when I say a lot, well, let’s just say that I could go three or four weeks without doing laundry except for underwear. But, the idea of getting rid of any of those clothes is frightening. Because… well, I could store them in a bin, in case I /need/ them later! What if I got rid of them and it turned out I really needed them?

   So it can be hard to get rid of stuff. My father and his wife threw out nearly all my stuff which was stored at his house several years ago, without my knowledge or consent. When I objected, he told me it was “just junk.” And some of it was; but some of it was books, and there was a shoebox of souvenirs from when I went to Europe, and – worst of all – he threw away my journals dating back to when I was 11 or 12, my file box full of papers and personal letters to and from people I corresponded with in high school and college. Books can be replaced, but my father cut me off from my history, and I still haven’t forgiven him.

   Still – I definitely have too much stuff.

10. When my mother moved out of the house I grew up in, some kind person was helping her get rid of mountains of “stuff.” He apparently threw out a scrapbook I had put together in fifth and sixth grade. It was all about JFK and his family.

    When I started it, I couldn’t have known that it would end with assassination newspaper clippings. I treasured that scrapbook. I could kick myself for not taking it with me when I moved away.

    And now, my mother has moved to a nursing home and I’m dealing with distributing the stuff in her Charlottesville apartment. I have become so ridiculously sensitive to tossing something that looks like junk, but is a treasure to another family member, that I photographed about 200 items and put the pictures on Flickr so people could request whatever they want to keep.

    It would be hugely easier to either toss it all, or to rent a storage unit to put everything in. (Note to Waldo: If I ever rent a storage unit to put my excess possessions in, it means I need an intervention. Somebody stop me.)

    This is taking up much of the summer, but I don’t regret it: I think of the time spent as insurance against anyone in the family being pissed off at me for tossing out, say, a scrapbook or other overlooked treasure.

11. So you are suggesting that if people clean all the crap out of their basements, they would then be likely to sell the house and move some place with X hundred fewer square feet? Incurring all of the hassle, realtors commissions, increased interest rates and other expenses involved? I have a hard time seeing very many people come to that conclusion after a few trips to the dump.

    I have a lot of stuff. And some day, when a sphere of sky, earth and everything on it six miles in diameter centered on the edge of Gordonsville is mysteriously transported back in time and space to central Thuringia in 1632 right in the middle of the 30 years war, taking my house and outbuildings with it, I will have the last laugh. Because all those books, old computers, tools, firearms and other assorted stuff will obviously prove essential to starting the German industrial revolution a few centuries early.

    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1632_%28novel%29

12. Getting rid of stuff (whether giving or tossing) feels so good, I don’t know why I wait so long between purges. I also love to acquire stuff, so these opportunities will keep arising!

    I wonder if anyone has ever made a study of why it feels so good to get rid of extraneous things.

    I made a trip to the Salvation Army the other day, and after I unloaded the bags and closed up the trunk, I fairly floated back into the driver’s seat. I wanted to high five someone, but settled for a private “Woo-hoo!” in my car.

13. So you are suggesting that if people clean all the crap out of their basements, they would then be likely to sell the house and move some place with X hundred fewer square feet?

    I suspect that very few of the readers of this blog live in the structure that they will remain in until the end of their days.

14. I can think of one who sounds like he’ll never ever leave his mom’s basement.

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