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I've been binging on purging lately. No, not binging AND purging... binging ON purging (a very big difference).
In the last few weeks alone I have winnowed my email box down to zero three times; kept more than one charity thrift shop awash in tchotchkes; thrown out a vast pharmacopeia of expired OTC remedies; and purged the kitchen of any bulging, rusting tins of seafood.
Frankly, I'm not sure why the sudden attack of fastidiousness (I've definitely been more Oscar than Felix my entire life). All I know is that as I accumulate more years, I feel less desire to accumulate more stuff.
What I have discovered as well is that such sudden attacks of Felix-itis are extremely contagious, and now my husband and I both appear to be contestants in an anti-consumerist reality TV show, "Take My Stuff Please," in which you have to con people to take your junk, scoring more points the uglier and more broken down the item.
And though we now are both avidly purging with the zeal found only in the newly converted, it is clear that the source of our clutter is quite different.
In his case, objects are the physical reminders of glorious memories: The ratty, holey T-shirt from the time he worked in the CBS election unit as a sixteen year old. Ticket stubs to every sporting event ever attended. And, lord help us, because he is the patron saint of broken things, if he has anointed an object with so much as a speck of crazy glue, then it can never be disposed of, having acquired hallowed status as a refugee from the dustbin.
I, on the other hand, do not cling to stuff as a means of preserving the past. Oh no. What I am in love with is potential. I want to be that person who makes jam and yogurt, who keeps chickens in the backyard, and who whips up hipster crafts at a moment's notice. These theoretical hobbies, unfortunately, require special apparatus (do you have any idea how much space three dozen mason jars takes up?).
And, because I am so fascinated by everything, I surround myself with acres of books, in order to learn, experience and see everything ever taught, said, felt, or ruminated upon by another human being. My desire to do and to learn far exceeds my capacity to do so, there being only 24 hours in a day and my having a day job and all.
In either case, and regardless of its origins, clearing out the clutter allows us to live properly in the here and now.
