The Tyranny of Things

Frugality is one of the most beautiful and joyful words in the English language,
and yet one that we are culturally cut off from understanding and
enjoying. The consumption society has made us feel that happiness lies in
having things, and has failed to teach us the happiness of not having
things. ~Elise Boulding

On Saturday between sessions at the OWFI conference, I decided to take advantage of the momentum generated by being in rooms full of writers, and at the same time enjoy a bit of solitude. I took myself away from the crowds and off to the library to do a little preliminary research on an idea that was generated at a workshop.

Our library seems to be forever changing. Things are never where they used to be. Perhaps if I made regular use of The Reader’s Guide to Periodical Literature, I would have known that the volumes have been moved. Somewhere. Shelves are shifted, seating rearranged, more computers added. Not to mention all the books: old favorites, new arrivals, those “close” to what you are looking for, some that distract from the current focus, and even some that follow me home and sit in the basket by my chair until I have to take them back.

I left the library feeling a bit overwhelmed. I never found what I went for, got no writing done, and time slipped away poorly spent yet again. I should have asked someone I know, but there were a ton of people, and lines everywhere—another reason I usually go during the week.

So I decided on a small frozen yogurt waffle cone, vanilla of course, to make sure the lunch break wasn’t a total loss. On the way to Braum’s I remembered why my dear friend had opted not to have a garage sale over the weekend, outside of the fact that I am her main source of assistance and I was busy. It was “neighborhood garage sale” day—traditionally the first weekend in May I was told. I believe it now. On several corners it was easy to spot the bumper to bumper parking and the humans swarming like ants, eager to sift through all the stuff that someone else couldn’t stand to have in his/her home anymore.

I found myself wondering if we piled all the stuff from all the garage sales all across Midwest City in one huge monstrous pile, if we’d finally understand that we have far more “stuff” than we need. We need to STOP SHOPPING! All this stuff steals our money and our time and sometimes even our sanity as we battle the continuing push to get us into the stores for the latest, greatest, biggest, baddest version of something we already own, that works perfectly fine, when we find the time to actually use it.

Then, when we finally come to the realization that we don’t use “it”, don’t want “it”, we’re stuck with guilt that natters in the back of our mind: It’s perfectly good, can’t throw it out. I paid good money for it, can’t throw it out. Aunt Doris gave it to me for __________, and if she ever found out I hated it….can’t throw it out. Our landfills are overfull, can’t throw it out.

So instead of tossing it, we bag it, box it, or strew it all over an outside table—taking up yet more time—so that others can cart it home. We feel better because we aren’t being wasteful, we are recycling. That’s great. Unless the odds and ends are carried off to overstuffed garages and storage units where they continue ruling our limited resources.

I have an adventurous friend who took herself off to St. Petersburg for a time, and she sent me a letter—almost ten pages I think—that I have kept over the years. (Though I must confess, at the moment it is lost among too much stuff in my “me” room. I am sooooo guilty of letting things, especially information, overwhelm me.) The one line I remember most from her letter was along the lines of, “The friends here have very little. As a result they spend more time with each other, because they aren’t so busy paying for and taking care of their things. They are closer to each other than we are in the States.”

We are more involved with, have more intimate relationships with all of our paraphernalia instead of the people in our lives. What kind of sense does that make?

Okay, I have things I need to go get rid of. Somehow. And I’m printing this out to read the next time I think I need to go to Target or WalMart or a bookstore somewhere….

Stop the Tyranny! Throw things. Out.