You Never Know How Much S*** You Have Until You Move

2023 was the worst year of my life, no contest. I'll spare you the details for now. I know it'll all come up in future articles. So much trauma, so little time...

Part of 2023's chaos was that I moved, not once, not twice, but THREE times. Once in March, once in April, and most recently in early December. I know for certain that only masochists enjoy moving. It's a special hell conscripted by the devil to drive us to the edge of our sanity, Karen-snap at innocent movers we've hired to help us, and curse the day we decided that buying four sets of glasses from Target just because they were on sale, was a brilliant, Instagram worthy idea. Many humans have entirely too much stuff, and we are overly concerned for its safety.

So for sure, the triple move jaded me. I honestly tried to purge a lot of my stuff, as I know this will not be the last time I move in my lifetime. I don't feel like I succeeded in the slightest, though. In fact, I bought MORE stuff as I moved the last time, as I found I didn't have a lot of 'necessities'. OK, a broom is a necessity, thank you $6.87 broom from Winco! But I am one person. How many plates, bowls, and forks do I need? Technically one of each, if you think about it. How hard is it to wash them between meals? Not very, but that's not what we're taught. I am reminded of the book The Lorax by Dr Seuss. (All my fellow Seuss fans, please stand up!) The Onceler says,

"And then I go mad.

I got terribly mad.

I yelled at the Lorax, "Now listen here, Dad!

All you do is yap-yap and say, 'Bad! Bad! Bad! Bad!'

Well, I have my rights, sir, and I'm telling you

I intend to go on doing just what I do!

And, for your information, you Lorax, I'm figgering

on biggering

    and BIGGERING

        and BIGGERING

             and BIGGERING,

turning MORE Truffula Trees into Thneeds

which everyone, EVERYONE, EVERYONE needs!" (1.)

(Now I know the Lorax is meant as a commentary on environmental issues. Don't worry, my hippie inner child will have plenty to say on all things environmental soon enough.)

My point is we seem to need "stuff" as a means of personal validation, a car, a house, gadgets, toys, vintage clothes, designer shoes, you name it. But we're never satisfied because that's hollow rather than honest self validation. I even tried to validate myself by buying mismatched plates and bowls from thrift stores. It didn't work. And my random vinyl collection? Bragging rights with exactly three people in my life, thank you very much.

You can probably figure out where I'm going with this, you smartypants you. This has all been a brilliant analogy for all the 'stuff', good and bad, we pack around with us, in our noggins. Some stuff I need, like my broom. Other stuff I am oddly attached to for no discernable reason, like my random vinyl. Of course, a lot stuff seemed like a good idea at the time, like the four sets of glasses from Target. And I tried to purge that unhelpful, distracting, self-defeating, hurtful stuff, I swear!

Personally, I had to make a mental decision last year to box up everything concerning some people close to me that hurt me deeply, the twisting your guts with a knife from the inside while pouring acid down your throat while plucking your eyes out with skewers kind of hurt. I put them in a box and put that box on the mental shelf. When something came to mind regarding them, I put it in the box. When something reminded me of them, in the box. The dreams with them in it, straight into the damn box. Then, with the help of a great counselor, I peaked in the box once in a while, took something out and dealt with it. Now I am proud to report, I rarely think of them at all, and when I do, it's with a "Golly, you must really be in a terrible place, be so miserable, that you have to treat someone like that to feel good about yourself." I actually feel sorry for them now.

So is it time for a mental move? If you're ready for the big move, pack up everything you think about, everything that keeps you up at night, everything that makes you laugh, cry, smile, snort, sigh, hurt, question, love, hate, believe, frown, and hope. And then only unpack what you truly need. If that's too daunting, toss one thing to get it out of your mental house. And if even that seems like too much, maybe you just leave all your stuff packed up, for now, until you're ready to deal with it. All are best.

I'll help you move for a veggie pizza and a decent bottle of whiskey. Just let me know.

Photo Credit:

https://unsplash.com/photos/white-and-red-fragile-labeled-box-iNeH9jvtwyU?utm_content=creditShareLink&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=unsplash

1. Dr. Seuss. The Lorax. New York City: Random House, 1971.