"How To Eat An Elephant" (part 0, the prequel)

[labelleizzy]

Once upon a time there was a little girl.
This little girl trustingly swallowed, hook, line, and sinker, the cultural meme that having more stuff will make you happier. She was not a happy little girl, and there were many hungers in her life that were never properly satisfied.

She started accumulating and collecting stuff. Meanwhile she was puzzled about why she seemed no happier, because she continued to hear the message that having enough stuff, will make you happy. She continued accumulating stuff.

Of course it wasn't really about the STUFF. It was about the unsatisfied hungers.
But it took her many many years to realize, that if you find out what the shape of the hunger is, and you feed yourself appropriately to satisfy all of your hungers, you don't need your "STUFF" as a pacifyer anymore.

and then you can get rid of the pacifyer.

Comments

[uawildcatgrl.livejournal.com]

This is fantastic! Thank you for sharing!

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

You're welcome. At suggestion of my friend delphid, I'm planning to make this into a series.

I've learned a lot about this topic and think it's a good thing to share.

:)

[tsgeisel.livejournal.com]

Silly girl - stuff doesn't make you happier.

Books make you happier.

:-)

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

Well, books made me less miserable, to be sure.
But books can also become STUFF if you collect too many, or the wrong kind, or hold onto them way after you're truly done learning from them...

[hitchhiker.livejournal.com]

yeah, took me a while to learn that!

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

Yeah, me too. Still struggling with it.

[tatjna.livejournal.com]

I dunno, some stuff is useful. I think the trick is to prioritise what stuff is important and what isn't - and most isn't.

I like my washing machine. ;-)

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

Here's where I make a distinction between Stuff and Tools That Make Life Better.

I love my washer/dryer, my dishwasher, my smartphone, my car. These are all tools.

... Anyway, more on this later, am planning out a series. (Thanks for another topic!!)

[tatjna.livejournal.com]

Yesterday as I was browsing around the internet, I came across the York Sub Aqua Club, a diving club with a history going back to the 1950s when my Dad lived there. Turns out they have a history page that mentions a couple intrepid early SCUBA divers who are unnamed. I have stuff at home that pretty much confirms who those people are (one is my Dad), so I contacted them.

Turns out I am probably able to furnish them with a bunch of photos and newspaper articles depicting the early history of their club because of this stuff that Dad kept and passed on to me.

I remember having trouble deciding what to keep and what to throw away from all the things I inherited from my folks. A lot of that would come under the category of 'stuff' in that it just sits in a box under the bed. But it has some significance - it turns out not just to me!

How would you categorise this sort of stuff? Sorry if I'm just making your post/topics more complicated, but I'm really interested in your take on this.

I hate clutter, which is what I'd categorise as 'stuff', but some clutter, like my Dad's photos, is something different.

[serendipity17.livejournal.com]

I'd characterize that box as biographical. Things get the "stuff" label when there is no intrinsic value in it. My great-great aunt's handkerchief stash may have value as vintage textiles. Her crocheted blankets could probably find new homes, depending on the yarn (I vaguely recall it being scratchy.)

Her Hummels, on the other hand, need to be consigned. Mom bought a bunch of them in the '80s as birthday etc presents, but they always just sat on a shelf in AZ. I've got no emotional connection to them, but people do collect them.

Sometimes it's easier. The three-foot stack of Time Magazine? Recyclable. My three-feet of Wine Spectator? Recyclable. (But I keep feeling like I *should* read them first.)

I am reluctant to Start Hobbies because it feels like Hobbies just require exchange of money for Stuff, use Time, and generate more Stuff.

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

When I look back on my life, I can see various hobbies, like layers of onion.

It has been useful to me to acknowledge that a certain hobby is ready to be dormant because it doesn't interest me any longer, and that contrariwise the new hobby makes me feel alive and interested. (Lucky for me that one of the hobbies is dancing: change dance FORM and there's lots more to learn.)

I still possess much art and craft supplies, and some of that became STUFF and some of it is still idea-fertilizer. But it's good to stash away dormant idea-fertilizer (like the paper-mache projects won't work well in this damp weather) and pick something fun to do that's appropriate and fun (brewing and crochet, right now)

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

Agree with serendipity 17, biographical or memorabilia is a good term.

Stuff, or kruft or kipple, as Jeff refers to it, is more like Things that aren't being used by you, and won't be. The patio table, chairs, and umbrella that I just gave away, were useful and used for a year, in storage for two, used regularly for three, and then in storage, because there hasn't been space to put them up again. Useful things become Stuff when your lifestyle changes, or your attachments change.

[runeshower.livejournal.com]

I read about a concept called "phantoms". Sometimes we get excited about the idea of an activity or project, and buy the stuff to do it with full intention, but it sits for years and we never get around to it. Those things are phantoms, and it's good to recognize it, admit it, and move on to what REALLY interests you. You can always tell - those are the things you're actually DOING.

I know some phantom chefs (have every cooking gadget known to man but never actually cook anything fancier than canned soup), phantom readers (buy books by the dozen but never make the time to read), and a lot of phantom fitness buffs (you know, the folks who own a treadmill, a stationery bike, and a weight bench but never use them).

I, for instance, am a phantom beadworker. I finally gave my beading supplies to my daughter. The trick for me is figuring out which are phantoms and which are phases. I get really excited about something, do it for a few months and move on to something else, but may return to it with equal enthusiasm in a year or two.

[girlpurple.livejournal.com]

Oooooohhh... I really like this phantoms concept. It's a great way to describe much of what is taking up space in my garage and craft room.

I am a phantom motorcyclist. I am a phantom knitter/crocheter. Hmm... have to think about some more of these.

[labelleizzy.livejournal.com]

I am a phantom leatherworker, for one... I have the ideas, supplies, and intention, just have not DONE any thing about it.

[runeshower.livejournal.com]

For most of my phantoms, I *did* do the activity for a little while (maybe even finished a project or two), then set it aside, never to return. A few others never got past the intention stage. But I also go through phases, like with cross-stitch - do it avidly for a year or so, move on to something else, then return and be just as avid as before. I'm that way with crossword puzzles too, and geocaching, and magazine-reading. I'm reluctant to get rid of my supplies for those things, since I'm likely to return to them at some point. Though it's not such a big deal to re-buy some of that stuff later, should the fire blaze up again...