After exposing my cluttered garage and pontificating about disposing of unused stuff, I had to act; otherwise, I wouldn’t be an authentic 52 Stepper. Even though I proclaimed the virtue of giving things to those who could use them, my immediate motivations were to show you I could do as I say, escape the yoke of unused possessions, and spare Little Ricky some future disposal work.
Easier Done Than Said
Yes, you read that right. When you look at your mountain of stuff, cleaning it out may seem like an insurmountable task, and if you burden yourself with the expectation of absolute completion, you might never start.
Therefore, I began by removing the easy “Why in the world did I ever save it?” items. Whenever I started to agonize over something, I retained it because in the time I would deliberate over that one item, I could address ten others and dispose of five.
But what about the program from your first dance recital, my GI Joe action figure, and the 1974 Dallas Cowboys pennant signed by the CBS television announcers? For those sentimental items that no one else can use, remember that the object is not the memory but only a symbol of it. In virtually every case, you can experience the feelings without the item. If you need a prompt, you can save a picture of it in the cloud. It is easier for your descendants to let the subscription lapse than to load a dumpster.
Alas, even someone as callous, virtuous, and diligent as I was unable to part with some things. I placed my green plastic toy army soldiers with other similar heirlooms in a box, along with a note for those burdened with them after my departure: “These items were too valuable to dispose of, but not valuable enough to give to anyone; you may transfer them to the dumpster without further consideration.”
There Will Be Consequences
Fifty pieces of painted, hardened liquid sand that sat in my garage for nearly twenty years made someone’s day. A few months ago, my favorite waiter offhandedly mentioned that he collected shot glasses. When I presented him with the battered box, he began to tear up. The small gift, which evidenced our remembering his random comment, especially at the end of his tough week, had a profound impact.
The owner of a local floral shop was elated by the dust-covered vases that she could use in her business. The woman who takes care of our home told us how much she enjoyed watching the TV, which had been lying in the garage. Our friend, who had wanted one for years, was happy to take the crawfish pot that had not seen a mudbug in 15 years. The beneficiaries included the recipients of scholarships funded by the church’s garage sale.
They made use of the unused. They created value from the unvalued. Conferring a benefit (however modest) proved to be the most rewarding outcome, far beyond having a more organized and aesthetically pleasing home and removing the visual reminders of my past failures in acquisition and disposition.
Why This One?
Of all the topics I have written about, disposal may be the least intellectual, but judging by our homes, it may be the most relevant. My realtor friend tells me she sells empty-nesters larger homes simply because they have run out of room in their current homes.
This post is not an indictment of our intellect but rather an indication that the issue is more emotional than rational. We have numerous needless, unjustified, and incredibly effective reasons to retain unused items: separation anxiety, guilt, loss aversion, laziness, etc. We focus on these barriers and fail to consider sufficiently the relief that comes with disposing of unused items or the benefit received by a rightful user.
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Overcome disposition’s obstacles by considering what you get and bestow rather than what you give up.