Seattle, WA - Two weeks ago I went to Seattle to do personal business. A top item of business was looking through boxes of my belongings that my Mom had been storing for me. I had to decide to take them with me to Brooklyn or discard them after five years of cold storage. I wanted to not burden my Mom with my possessions.
Looking through the past—and making decisions about what from the past to bring into the future—is one of life’s important and necessary things. We have to decide between the utility of keeping something and the futility of having it sit for so long. Humans are gifted with the ability to give meaning to objects. We give things significance of all kind and sometimes believe our possessions say something about who we are. Perhaps they do. But carrying them from place to place and holding on to them for years in boxes in attics—or in a damp garage in Seattle in my case—say something else. Is everything of the past worth keeping?
I discarded with glee old statements of financial aid given to me by my college—I’m well aware of the schools loans I owe. I gave away oversized sweaters from the time oversized was in. From 4 boxes, I was able to get rid of one box. Sentimentality won out over practicality in the decision perhaps. My mom will continue to shoulder my things for me. The past turned out to be hard to part with.
So what things survived my plunder? Three boxes. Within them are books whose authors I knew, journals and photos of years lived abroad, and little things whose weird beauty I might not find again: a stainless steel decanter that plays a tune when wound up from its base, a silver ash tray in a strange, sensuous shape. They return to the damp sleep of the garage. They are part of the past and they have place in the future.
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