Am, at present, packing into cardboard boxes the collected detritus of memories, the flotsam washed in on the waves from a lifetime of experience.
Do I need it all .. that is the question. What to keep, what to dump. What book, what piece of paper, what diary, what letters from lovers long ago, what picture in a frame. Furniture and fripperies, small statues holding within them the spur for memories of special events and people.
For how much are we held in bondage to the past, I wonder.
It would, I guess, be somewhat easier if I had a definite destination in mind, or even if it was intentional - something to look forward to with eager anticipation .. but, sitting among the piles of disorganisation and packing paper, depression keeps seeping in through the cracks of a badly built self esteem.
Sometimes solitude is its own reward, to not be pestered or distracted by family and friends - but to have to do this on my own, a singular body in the vast universe...
(and why am I sitting here this morning, wasting time writing this sort of crap?)
And he stoppeth one of three.
`By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
The bridegroom's doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
Mayst hear the merry din.'
He holds him with his skinny hand,
"There was a ship," quoth he.
`Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!'
Eftsoons his hand dropped he.
(well, I didn't write THAT, Samuel Taylor Coleridge did .. )
10 comments:
"Do I need it all .. that is the question. What to keep, what to dump."
I know, I know. Me also.
I ponder often on the possessions-less Dalai Lhama.
he doesn't need a hairdryer or a tumbledryer, or a place for 20 pairs of shoes. an iron, or coathangers. the bastard just bots off other people in order to be footloose and fancy free.
hiss hiss.
A Hairdryer!!??, shoes??? give me a break .. one pr of steel-caps 'n' a pr of thongs, heh. Do have a washing machine and tumbledryer though, hmmm.
The Dali Lama trip actually crossed the mind at one point. Wouldn't have to shave much hair, already have a tupperware bowl .. a spare bedsheet .. errrm, don't think I could afford the saffron to dye it though. mm, guess I'll just have t' cope.
i think you should keep all the stuff. The time to throw away is later.
Oh you poor maudalin thing. Yeah keep the stuff, chuck into boxes. One foot in front of the other, where you go next, this is best. Chin up, don't ponder. Do.
by coincidence, i was just having a chat with Shokai and reached the point where i said something like:
"having an identity of some sort and being able to say 'yes, that is me, that is what I like', or 'that is what I would do' is almost entirely a feat of memory."
Seems to apply. If you like who you are, you keep quite a bit of what brought you to the present.
Helen was saying something about that just this morning. She has thrown out almost everything. Says that old pictures are just a waste as they go to a dump someday anyway.
Anything she needs is in her mind. She will die with pretty much an empty house, maybe that is for the best.
I don't have a washer because I don't have running water here, but I do have a dryer.
The Dali Lhama took it too far, it's nice to have some things.
He is a mooch isn't he? I've always worked for what I have. I've taken some, but I've also given a lot.
maudalin, link? .. sounds like some sort of opiate (heh). Yer, put one foot in front of the other.. needs some sort of direction tho, otherwise end up travelling in everdiminishing circles..:-).
GS, mm, identity, there's a long essay attached to that. I know who I 'think' "I" am, but is not necessarily who others think I am. The thought has occurred to me that we keep "stuff", possessions, to "show" others who we think we are .. or something like that.
One of the problems that am having with some of the "old" stuff, is my son. If he's anything like me at 30, he won't be in the least bit interested in "family history" until he's 60 or so. Be too late to get it back if it's gone.
At the bottom of it, Billy B, I agree. There would not be the tiniest "blip", of no consequence whatsoever to the Cosmos if me and all my stuff just suddenly vanished off the face of the earth. 'Tis only ego that makes me think some of it important.
I am a packrat, magpie, you name the collector and I'm it. I am waiting for the next charity collection now that my Mother-in-law has gone and I can pass most of her things on. I couldn't do it while she was alive, it didn't feel right.
Davo, your blog just gets better and better as it approaches the grand status of "The Saga of Davo". I'm so glad I'm here for this big transition in your life.
Great idea for your post, the seven deadlies.
As for what to throw away, I like getting rid of stuff; for me it's taking a shower, shucking a burden, scrubbing the deck and starting fresh. I went through a "throw away" experience when we moved to this house three years ago -- and I'm still wondering what's to become of all the stuff that's left!
If I were you I'd keep all the love letters, photographs, erotica, and favorite books and artifacts and let the rest go . . . but of course keep your own creations of every kind.
I do hope you can share some of the exultation I've felt when moving to a new place.
Maybe I missed it, but I don't know what you're moving into. I was afraid you were taking off with nothing but a vehicle and some bedding. Sounds as if sensibleness has prevailed. You can't live in a car if the police are going to pound on your window as they did once before.
Maybe I missed it, but I don't know what you're moving into. I was afraid you were taking off with nothing but a vehicle and some bedding. Sounds as if sensibleness has prevailed. You can't live in a car if the police are going to pound on your window as they did once before.
Fleming, you are a child of conditioning. "sensible"? Hah.
Try living in Zimbabwe where the police pound you for no sensible reason whatsoever.
Thank you all for these comments, there is much material for further thought.
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