Stuff

I like stuff. I was raised on stuff. I was an only child in an upper-middle class family. My parents bought stuff for me and for themselves. Little of what we had was particularly fancy or flashy, but we sure had a lot of it. At Christmas they went particularly overboard. They'd start shopping early and by the end of December would have accumulated huge piles of presents for each of us. A college boyfriend who spent a Christmas with us described it as "decadent." Although I bristled at the negative connotation I couldn't really argue.

Over the years I've tried to purge. When I moved from a condo to a one bedroom apartment I had to purge because of the diminishing available space. Loads and loads to Goodwill and to friends. Items sold on Craigslist. There would just be know room.

Even with the space I realize that stuff is a burden. More things make organization and cleaning more difficult. It's harder to find things amidst vast collections. A cluttered room also clutters the mind.

I'd like to get rid of books that I rarely read, kitchen appliances that I rarely use, or clothes I rarely wear, but I always worry I'll regret it. And some things are sentimental. And some things I just like. I do. I like my stuff.

On Friday, a close friend's apartment was broken into. She was robbed. They took sentimental items like her grandmother's wedding ring. They took practical items like her computer. What they didn't take they rifled through. All her stuff was gone or in severe disarray.

We all agree that the most important thing is that she was not hurt. She was not there when it happened. She is perfectly safe. We would all prefer to lose our stuff than have something happen to our persons.

Still, the loss of stuff is angering, disheartening, and disorienting. You think you are coming home to your stuff, but it is not there. You locked the door, but still it is gone. It is scary. It is upsetting.

This event makes me look at my stuff differently. What of it is *truly* important? What can I do to protect those things? What, if something were to hapen, could I just take the insurance money and buy a new one? What can never be replaced? What can I do about that? Do I have enough back-ups of my writing? Where is my favorite jewelry kept? What is just a distraction? What should I do with all my stuff?

I hope I remembered to lock the door.