I easily doubled the amount of possessions in my... possession. Boxes of books, and old clothes, and video games that were designed with Windows XP in mind. And thus the purge of nostalgia and dust-induced sneezing begins.
Despite the dorky (and quite frankly unwieldy) title, I recently read The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing. I found some of the philosophies to be a tad excessive, but buried in there were some good nuggets. Particularly those about letting go and disposing of belongings were helpful. The general gist that stuck with me was how cherished items may have already fulfilled their purpose, and it's okay to let them go if they no longer bring you happiness.
I have been keeping every birthday and Christmas card since about, oh, 2002. I do not need to keep all of those. Same with old physics exams that I aced. A flight simulator game that I logged many, many hours into and know that I'll never boot it up again. A favourite set of childhood sheets, a faded Star Wars shirt my aunt brought me from Disneyland, a burgundy and grey bomber jacket that wrapped me up and held me together through some tough years in high school. They're all things I loved and appreciated and used to the fullest... That I know I'll probably never use again. I'll be donating absolutely whatever I can to a nearby non-profit that gives used goods to homeless people. I like the thought that someone, somewhere, might be able to take the things I loved and give them a second life.
A lot of those decisions were easy. "Oh yeah, I totally remember this thing, it was awesome! But I don't need to hang onto it any more." And into the corresponding clothes/toys/books/miscellaneous donation box it goes. Everything else I can't immediately bring myself to part with goes onto the conspicuous mountain of stuff, that has eclipsed the coffee table once served as its foundation.
So far about half of what my parents dropped off is being donated, and the other half I have in my 'keep' pile. I think I need to take a second pass (and maybe a third) through this second collection and make some very hard decisions.
Here's a sample of "things I feel like I should keep, even though I shouldn't":
- Cringy notes between a crush and I at highschool. You know the ones - Blue lined Hilroy paper, covered in a girl's bubbly hand script, and then folded up into obligatorily tight squares. Ugh, I even knew what they were without having to actually unfurl them. So embarrassing. They went straight in the trash.
- A yearbook, portfolio, and diploma from my final year of highschool. I didn't even have my photo taken that year, so there wasn't even a case to be made for the "to remember what you were like back then!" argument. The portfolio was full of turrible art and poetry and lame kinematic tests. I saved the letters of recommendations from a few of my favourite teachers, and trashed the rest. And finally, my highschool diploma. I've done six years of post secondary and have my Bachelor's degree, so... I don't think I need to keep my highschool credentials.
- Soccer referee gear. Flags, a shirt, a whistle, and virgin red/yellow cards. I was a terrible ref that couldn't quite stand up for himself, even though I hustled my ass off every game and reviewed my manual before every match. One of those unfortunate cases of "Your best isn't good enough." I had one game where all the parents and coaches on one team were really laying into me the whole time, and I didn't have the guts to throw them off the field. Once the final whistle blew I broke down into tears. Ah, yes, what a wonderful experience for a sixteen year old to capture for a lifetime of regret.
- A kickass nerf gun, where the barrel and stock would collapse/expand as you needed it to. It was like a blaster/sniper rifle hybrid that looked hella cool. I think I spent all my birthday money to buy it one year.
- Scripture/bible study guides. I did four years of cold, early morning study. Filled out work books and marked up my own set of scriptures. And I don't think I'll be returning to them any time soon.
- WW2 books. Lots of them. Some in wonderful condition that have detailed, gorgeous illustrations of old warbirds and bombers. Alas... I think that format of information has been replaced by the internet.
- Hotwheels! For a couple summers, my brother, uncle, and I would purchase $20 worth of cars and race them in round-robin tournaments in the park across the street. I'm keeping a few of the cars that performed the best. You know, just in case.
- A little plushy frog and skunk with magnets in their hands that accompanied me everywhere. And a black gorilla holding a heart, which a girl gave to me. On Valentines Day. It'd take me another 2-3 years before I realized that *gasp* she was into me, long after the opportunity had disappeared. Bravo.
- A small Playmobil set with a few seals, that my sister had given me for Christmas after we had visited the seals at the wharf in San Fransisco together.
- A khaki boy scouts uniform, complete with a sash featuring some very poorly sewn-on badges. Being neither a fan of camping, doing camping-related activities outdoors, or the other kids in my group, I never really enjoyed myself there. Much to the chagrin of my father, who was the leader for many years.
- Karate gear. A gi with another poorly sewn patch on the chest (younger me was a terrible sewist), and a multicolored collection of belts tied in neat knots. Admittedly, I kinda enjoyed my time practicing Isshn Ryu, fighting more with my hilariously poor motor skills and physical memory than my sparring companions. I got up to a blue belt. Or a green belt with blue stripes. Whichever one is more impressive. From time to time I toy with the idea of trying martial arts again.
- Car and truck sheets, from my bed as a kid. Worn very thin and faded for bed size that I don't even own. I kinda liked those sheets... But what the hell am I going to do with them now?
- A Half-Life 2 Collector's Edition box, postcard, soundtrack, and posters. I was really excited for that game - I remember asking for my teachers for homework assignments in advance so I would have the evening to play. It was November 16th. The things you remember...
- A Calgary Flames puck that my mom got me after a trip to said city. The Flames were my favourite team, but because Cal-gar-y Flame-s was such a hard name for my poor little tongue to articulate, I affectionately referred to them as the 'C Burners' for many years.
And then there's my work from art school. Lots of large, meticulously crafted pencil drawings. Some pretty awful metal projects that look like they were made in a 101 jewelry course (because they were). I'm probably going to keep a few of the drawings I really like, but what do I do with all the rest? Even if you know you don't really want it any more, how do you dispose of something that you've sunk hours and sweat into? It doesn't quite feel right to unceremoniously dump it into the recycling/garbage... But there isn't really another option.
It's all a big, scary, strange process. It's like admitting, yeah, I'm no longer a kid. And even beyond that, now you've gotta face the fact that you no longer have "your bedroom" waiting for you in your childhood home, where all your stuff is waiting for you. It's time to move on with life, I guess. Seek out new adventures that come with their own little trinkets. And in another 10-20 years, I'll go through those and make the painful realization that I'm no longer a young(er) man any more.
Time churns on. It can be a bit of a bastard that way.
-Cril
