The Weight of Stuff: Why We Keep What We Keep

I’ve been thinking about “stuff” quite a bit lately. Seems like a somewhat trivial topic for philosophical contemplation. Nevertheless, if one goes a bit deeper than just a casual reference to my stuff or your stuff, I have found value, meaning, symbolism, angst, joy, maybe even obsessive/compulsive attachment to “stuff.” The word is so important it takes over two inches in my New World Dictionary (yes, I still have a dictionary). It is both a noun and a verb. One could stuff their stuff into a closet or stuff a turkey with good stuff to eat.  

So why am I thinking and writing about stuff? Mostly because my partner Marv has been in the painful process of moving and downsizing his lifelong accumulation of automotive and mechanical business properties to a new and much smaller location. It’s a lot of stuff and it’s heavy and big. It’s very tangible: and beneath the tangible is the very real intangible meaning of every piece of it. Being involved in this process, mostly as a supportive observer, has led me to consider the place of stuff in life, first in a big picture, impersonal perspective, then as the focus narrows to a personal level.

I see this topic being subdivided into two major categories — acquiring stuff and letting go of stuff. With my allotted 600 words, I’ll address acquiring in this article and save letting go for next month.  

We live in a culture that encourages acquiring. He who dies with the most toys wins. Or the latest kitchen appliance. Or the most currently fashionable clothing. The newest car, this year's phone model, new party decorations for every holiday. When we are literally talking toys, as in children’s toys, acquiring can get obscene. There is even a big market for new-to-you. I can name five television shows that are based on that market:  “Pickers,” “Pawn Stars," “Storage Wars,” “Filthy Fortune,” and “Antique Road Show.”  All of them indirectly encourage acquiring and holding on to stuff that might be of great value in the future. Of course I watch them. I never claimed to be superior to the trend. I love garage sales. I shop at Goodwill. I can’t resist a bargain.

When I’m in my right mind, I try to consider if I really need it (whatever “it” is). However, “need” is a tricky word. Are we talking about functionality or feeling? Here’s the conversation in my head: “I need that little vase to remind me of this wonderful trip to China.” So the vase goes home and now lives on the shelf along with the other vases from other places that occasionally get dusted, and maybe I remember which one came from where. 

Acquiring can fill a void. We all know about recreational shopping, a dangerous pastime with potential for financial ruin. And it’s made much easier with shopping online. I feel fortunate that part of the recreation for me is the hunt for the best bargain. By the time I have searched every site — physical or online — I may have satisfied the urge without purchasing anything.  

The upside of acquiring is the satisfaction of owning this thing that meets a need for you, be it useful, beautiful, or nostalgic. The downside may be that you now also own a new responsibility to find the time and space and skill to care for this new acquisition. The accumulation of stuff may make this an uneven trade. For example, when I moved from my 1500sf+garage house in West Salem, to my less than 1200sf with no garage house east of the river, one of my first purchases was a shed for storing overflow “stuff!”

Tune in next month for the flipside — letting go of stuff.