Blessed by a curse

I did not grow up in one town or city. I have lived in many different settings, including two overseas. If I ever have children, I would like to take them to the place I called home for twelve years of my life, San Diego CA.

Because of this environment, I have a strong attachment to stuff. That blessing has now become a curse. In August Lindean and I moved from an 1800 square foot house in Phoenix to a 1200 square foot town home here in Bozeman. All the stuff from Phoenix does not fit in the townhome.

My strong attachment to stuff (the briefcase my father gave me when I was six, my old MN driver’s license, a paper hat from the restaurant I worked at for seven years to name a few items) makes it hard for me to sort through it and to get rid of it. These random piles of meaningless objects to the outside observer are links to my past. I can’t walk back into my childhood bedroom. It only exists in the piles of random stuff I’ve hauled around since graduating from college.

My wife has suggested I place all my beloved objects on the floor, take a portrait of them, and get rid of them once and for all. Easy said than done, sweetheart. Which camera do I use? The one my parents gave me on my 29th birthday? The old broken Canon 35mm that my brother Kurt gave me? The two disposable cameras I bought for mission trips to Mexico but never used? My first generation digital camera made by Kodak but weighs a ton? Decisions, decisions.

Reflection on my attachment to stuff has caused me to reevaluate that attachment. A friend recommended “Every time a new item enters your home, get rid of two items already there.” GREAT IDEA!

For my birthday/Christmas present my parents gave me a new snow suit. This means I have an old snow suit that could be used by someone else. I think I’ll take it to the Salvation Army depot in Bozeman MT this weekend for distribution in “OPERATION WARM” throughout the month of November.

Would you consider donating a used winter coat for “OPERATION WARM?”

Happy reflecting on the piles of your stuff.