Things Stored in Mom's Basement

Inspired by Mary Ellen, Casey, and Patrick, I shot a video (that I can't get Blogspot to upload) in my mother's basement--a space in which  I'm trying to make room for all my worldly possessions. I will either get that video uploaded by tomorrow or I'll simply post a narration of what it contains with still photos. It is one amazing experience to sort through items from your childhood and even your grandparents' lives while asking yourself if these things are needed.

 So the problem of possessions is needing to be explored. The question is what does one hold on to and what should be let go? I agree with Mary Ellen's position that all objects are not equal. There are two kinds of value we're discussing: monetary and sentimental. In the end, however, my thesis is that this only amounts to different reasons for divesting one's self of the things--not a differentiation in how to treat the objects. 

I brought up the question of hoarders and how they seem to suffer from a malady that we all have to some extent. It is a sickness that our economic system forces on us. The problem with our stuff is that it owns us. That is the truth. The things themselves are meaningless. That is also true, I very firmly believe.  And by allowing meaningless things to own us we are slaves to falsehood. That is a fairly romantic flourish, I admit: "slave to falsehood." This is what my husband has called "getting all Mother Theresa." I apologise for the poetics. But I sincerely mean what I'm saying and I truly believe this is a matter of deep morality. 

I have said that our culture's attachment to objects is a sickness and immoral. I had better clarify my purpose in saying that. I am not suggesting that we people who suffer from this are, ourselves, immoral. In our minds, these objects are attached to our most profound humanity: our love for others. This instinct is good and beautiful. I am not advocating a Buddist detachment from the world. In fact, I'm advocating a complete and thorough connection to the world -- or, more specifically, the people who occupy it. And the great irony I would like to examine is the way our attachment to things prevents us from being able to  do that very thing we all desire most: connecting with others, experiencing love.