On the Meaning of Stuff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I rarely wonder

on the meaning of stuff

we gather around us.

Mostly, I just gather stuff

rather than wondering

about what purpose it serves in my life.

This is one of those rare times

when I even take a peek through the window

to consider what it all means.

Why do we gather these piles of stuff?

It's true, I am considerably better

at living more simply.

It's also true,

I still have a ways to go.

Living an agrarian life style

does take more stuff:

jars, canners, big pots, freezers.

The list goes on.

The Grandmas and Grandpas of the past did it,

and they lived in teeny houses

by today's standards,

nevermind larger family size.

They also had sheds and barns too.

While they had considerably less

by today's standards,

they kept things

because they never knew

when they might use them.

They may have had a greater sense

of what goes into the making of stuff.

Why would you throw away

those resources the Earth gave,

and the fruits

of Human efforts, skill and money besides?

Maybe their voices live inside of me.

I have a hard time letting go of things

that keep me connected to earlier ones.

I think I hold some of these treasures

because they somehow mean love.

Of course, material things do not mean love.

My rational voice firmly declares

while my hand reaches for more.

In troubled times or times of higher stress,

I hold onto things more,

almost as if I need something to lean on.

The boxes get so tall

they teeter as I lean.

The piles get so wide

they impede my path.

In my life, I practice

a dynamic dance

of accumulating and letting go.

These days, I feel

the struggle of those 2 things

and I see it in the settling

of this little Home.

Somehow I (and we) will find our way.

I am better,

but I have a ways to go.

~~~~

Glinda Crawford, 2010

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~