555 Days Towards Level 9000: Day 13.
Awake Time: 10:56 a.m.
Stuff. We all have stuff. I have a lot of stuff. My living space is only so big, but in that area I have two full-sized bookcases, a smaller bookcase and an area for library books. I have 17 books checked out from the library at the moment.
I enjoy clever T-shirts, so I have an entire collection of wrestling, Star Wars and other shirts. Of those, I wear 15 on a regular basis.
Other items are here as well. With all of this stuff staring at me and surrounding me on a regular basis, I ask myself: Do I need all of this?
Author Marie Kondo wrote a book called “The Art of Tidying Up,” which addresses this very idea. Her system involves looking at an item and taking notice of how you feel about it. If an item — let’s say a cup — evokes a strong positive feeling, then that’s how you know it’s something to keep. If that same item evokes a negative feeling or no feeling at all, then get rid of it via trash or donation.
I utilized her system about a year ago. I parted with roughly 50 percent of my stuff. But I’m still surrounded by stuff that I felt positive about. But the sheer volume of things still gives me agita. For someone who wants to travel and have mobility when needed, the stuff is a burden.
So I sit here and look at things. I have “Supergods” by Grant Morrison on my bookshelf. I remember where I was when I bought it. I remember that I really wanted to read it. I have read a great deal of it, out of order, opening randomly. His concept of Super-heroes being just as — if not more — real than we humans still leaves me astounded. But do I need to keep this? Will I ever read the whole thing?
Right next to this is my collection of “New X-Men,” also written by Grant Morrison. I adored this series when I read it 13 years ago. I later bought the entire series in trade paperback for a future read and as reference. I’ve never cracked them open.
There is a Batman Pez dispenser on the smaller bookshelf. Just hanging out, on display. Why do I have it? Probably sentimental reasons.
Meanwhile, I have a tiny Deadpool pin that I wear all the time and consider one of my favorite possessions. The pin was an incidental purchase when I bought a particular comic I was seeking out almost a year ago. That comic is long gone, but the pin remains. Deadpool, by the way, is my Spirit Animal.
What to do with stuff? The Kondo method still applies, but also requires more personal discipline on my part. The answer comes down to: Do I want to carry this thing everywhere with me? Suddenly, what I “need” and what can be referenced at libraries, bookstores or on the Internet becomes clear.
Experiences over stuff. Always.