With just five trips from car to house, I’ve stowed all my belongings under one roof for the first time in months. I realized I really don’t “have” much. My room consists of:
one crow painting
a newspaper-carton nightstand, containing all 15 of my school books; one of which is Harry Potter.
a sparesly populated closet
and a bed (valued at one six-pack of IPA.)
Three bikes reside in the garage, and I’ve got my trusty breadbox in the kitchen, along with some some forks, spoons, and a small pot for making oatmeal. That’s all the stuff I’ve got or need.
Yet between bikesnob’s latest minimalist-abusing rant and my own adventures with moving in, I’ve been thinking quite a lot about stuff. Specifically my stuff, but also other peoples’ stuff, like this guy, who counts his
“underwear and socks together because every other minimalist blogger does too. We’re allowed to cheat on undergarments because we always have.”
As evidenced by the apparent abundance of “minimalist bloggers” out there, it seems like the general mood of the hip these days is shifting to “less is more.” Yet isn’t it funny how even the hippest perception of personal worth still seems to be based, regardless of actual quantity, on stuff? Whether you get your cool from having tons of toys or from having almost no toys- it’s still all about the toys.
So instead of making another list of things you own, or things you got rid of, or things you need- why not out-hip the hip and make a list of the meaningful interactions you have in a day? Or of the beautiful things you see?
I’ll tell you why not: because when armegeddon hits in 2012 we’ll all be desperately bartering our bikes and oatmeal pots for food. You can’t eat fuzzy memories, which is why I plan to fill my empty room with fish and grains. Long live stuff.
But here is one of the beautiful things I saw on my ride today: