I don't often buy many things, the things I have are often free and just have a way of making their way into my home and making themselves comfortable. When they first present themselves in my life I think, "Goodness, isn't this charming, isn't this winsome, is this not the most special thing you have seen in the world?" And I tuck it into some corner of my home and glance at it over tea.
These things will sit for a few days, weeks, months, or years and one day I will come upon the idea (yet again) that I am not defined by my things and I will purge. I will fill boxes and bags and trunks and drive off to my charity of choice that month and share the goodness of my things with others. But then something new will catch my eye, I will think, "What a gem!" and that empty spot on the shelf will be filled with something interesting and new again.
For years I have beat myself up over this cycle of objects coming and going in my home. It is not until recently that I saw it as that- a cycle- and have to come accept that it is not something that makes me entirely unhappy. There really are amazing things out in the world. Sometimes I'll find them at a garage sale, sometimes it's something a friend passes on because they think it'll interest me, sometimes it's something a family member was trying to find a new home for, sometimes it beckons from the gutter of a street. No matter the way it gets into my life, I realize I actually enjoy this cycle of receiving and releasing.
In the project pictured above, Nate and I came up with a fun way to reuse a few objects that had entered our lives over the past few years: picture tiles from my aunt's kindergarten classroom over 20 years ago, leftover pieces from a new game Jed got for his birthday in October, vellum paper from a scrapbook we made at my sister's baby shower for Logan 4 years ago. We took those objects glued them together and made three pretty awesome pictures for his room. They are now proudly displayed on his shelf.
And they will stay there for days or weeks or years until we make something new, find something different, or are gifted something that needs the space and we will release these pieces with as much ease as we created them.
It's a process, this becoming comfortable with all the cycles of growing and changing we go through. Sometimes, when I look on the surface of things and see stuff it becomes an easy way to become frustrated that I'm not truly minimalist enough, I'm too attached to things, I'm not allowing my authentic self to show through. But then sometimes I am able to step back and see the gifts that we are given all the time, the little objects of beauty that people share with us, gift to us, or that we create ourselves and am thankful for the time we have them in our homes and I'm able to come to a little bit more peace about it all. I am not my stuff. Though I may enjoy sharing space with it all. It is alright to enjoy interesting, beautiful, fun things. It is what makes this space my home. It is an outward extension of the way I see the world. And it comes and goes, it ebbs and flows. And I am okay with that.
1 comment:
My! I can so relate to this post! I have a real struggle with these very things-collector vrs. minimalist. I found a wonderful sweater at Goodwill last week and wore it to work today. The sweater is embellished with tiny shells and bits of sparkly things. One of my sweet students was cozy on my lap playing with the embellishments and a shell came off in her hand. She said, "Would you mind if I keep this little shell? It is so pretty and you have so many others you can share with other children." I feel her statement perfectly compliments your post! Thanks!
Post a Comment