I've been contemplating what to write about in a new post, and something that has been a running theme in the past week or so in my life is: STUFF. Recently, George Carlin passed away, and the radio station that we listen to in the mornings played one of his jokes to help remind everyone of the treasure that has been lost. His comedy was hilarious, yet startlingly true and simple. He spoke about all of the "stuff" that humans collect over a lifetime and how our entire lives are simply based on getting more "stuff" to pile in our stuff receptacles (i.e. houses). Many people, it seems, just can't get enough "stuff" to satisfy their happiness or justify their existence.
Meanwhile, my mother has finally decided, exasperated and concerned for my grandmother's sanity, that she will spend the remainder of this summer cleaning up the land surrounding my grandparents' home. Over his lifetime, my grandfather has accumulated an incomprehensible amount of "stuff" and the piles grow daily - only to sit forgotten, rotting and rusting, under a collapsing barn roof. He has so much "stuff" he can't even remember what he owns or where anything is located. The majority of the "stuff" has fallen into disrepair: cars that no longer run and are infested by mice, tractors that have rusted into one solid block of metal with trees growing through the crevices, lumber, tools, the list goes on and on. According to him, he'll get around to fixing it soon. He's 80-years-old. Not going to happen. For some reason, unknown also to myself, I have offered to help my mother clear out this "stuff," tote it to the nearest junk dealer, and eradicate the thigh-high grass and weeds that probably haven't been cut in decades. It's going to be a hoot.
Finally, Kyle and I have been diligently searching for a home in which to store and showcase all of our "stuff" - clothes, books, electronics, and wedding gifts currently spread between our two sets of parents' houses. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited about having a "stuff receptacle" of our very own, but I shudder to think how long it will take us to unpack, sort, and file away all of our "stuff," although I know that it will be done...someday. Then, I suppose, we will begin the accumulating process anew. *Sighs*
I know that some "stuff" is essential to life, but so many of us have such an abundance of "stuff" that everything feels like a necessity: the newest high-resolution television set, the best leather handbag to match an outfit, the most up-to-date car with just-released technology. I can't say I know exactly where I'm going with this post - perhaps I'm simply tired of thinking about all of the "stuff" clouding our lives and need a mental break. You take one too.