Everyone has stuff. You have stuff. He has stuff. She has stuff. Dogs have stuff. And I have stuff. But I don't have as much stuff in Germany as I do in the US.
I was fortunate to grow up with everything I needed...and most of what I wanted.
When I went off to college, we packed the giant SUV full of old things and new. Just imagine how traumatized I was when we got into an accident before leaving the city limits and had to rent a smaller SUV to finish the journey. Once we arrived in South Bend, we hit up the local stores to buy even more stuff. Of course, I needed every single last thing that was crammed into my dorm room. Even that pack of pumpkin seeds and some duct tape that would solidify life-long friendships.
As it should, going off to college really opened my eyes in ways I never imagined. My college experience didn't offer a lot of ethnic diversity, but my eyes were opened to economic diversity as well as diverse family dynamics.
I was the first child in my family to go off to school. We had no personal experiences to rely on, so we played it by the books. We learned through experience. I was shocked, and at times saddened, that some of the women had brought all of their stuff with them. All of it. Every single possession they owned. This was their new home. They weren't going back home.
If I had to estimate what I brought with me, I'd guess a quarter to a third of my belongings. Back in my room at home, it still looked like someone lived there. Full bookshelves, a full closet, a fully-made bed, and a working desk. Not to mention my storage boxes under the bed, in the basement, and in the crawl space. My childhood.
I was lucky that my parents were able to keep these things for me. They still do. Some women were moving out of their parent's home forever, taking all of their belongings and getting rid of what they didn't need. I was keeping old dolls and toys for my very future children to play with when visiting the house I grew up in.
My eyes were opened even more when I had to whittle down packing in a SUV to packing in a suitcase for my sophomore year in Austria.
As I was living out that year of study and travel, I didn't realize the full impact of my new life without stuff. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely acquired new things while in Innsbruck. And I most certainly shipped home what didn't fit in my suitcase. But it wasn't until I returned home from that year abroad that I realized how much stuff I didn't need.
It was part of my reverse culture shock and it might seem trivial, but I realized that I didn't need 10 pairs of jeans or 20 pairs of athletic shorts or a craft that I made when I was five. I didn't need a belt rack with eight belts because I never wear belts. (I most definitely do now.) I didn't need three sets of active gym shoes. I probably didn't need seven pairs of basketball shoes, one for each season I played.
Perhaps, part of the problem was growing up in Chicago with four seasons (well, most years). I owned at least six pairs of boots, a minimum of twelve jackets, a plethora of hats/scarves/gloves/mittens, a bin of bathing suits, and enough T-shirts to clothe a football team.
And that was just the closet. My drawers were filled with pens, markers, pencils, and paper. My bookshelves were loaded with books upon books that I had read, re-read, or rescued (some say rescue, some say hoard...). My DVDs and CDs were covered in dust -- some still unopened.
I came home and immediately realized how much stuff I didn't miss or need while I was away. I grabbed some garbage bags and started making piles. I donated or found homes for a good portion of stuff, yet it hardly made a dent.
But the realization of stuff and material good had changed me.
I finished out college still owning quite a bit of stuff. I incorporated that stuff back into my "real" life post graduation.
And then I left for Vienna.
I was back to slimming down for suitcases. And after two years, I was back in my old room at home with the same problem. Too much stuff.
For the next three and a half years I simultaneously struggled with getting rid of stuff while acquiring new stuff. I'm a saver. You never know when you might need something. It's a dangerous mentality.
I had a sheet of Jägermeister temporary tattoos that I had been saving for years, for just the right time. And when that time came, bartending at German Fest in Chicago, the tattoos were dried out and worthless.
When it came time to pack my bags for Hamburg, I was once again excited to live a simpler life.
I'm not sure if it's fair to compare my lives in European cities with my life at "home", but a part of me is always more happy and satisfied while living abroad. I often wonder if it's the "stuff" factor.
Having minimal belongings is very freeing. You buy something if you need it. Or you borrow it. Or you live without it. Life goes on.
Sure, you can do the same thing in the US, and some people do. But when you have a big house and a big car, it's very easy to accumulate and keep stuff at an alarming rate.
It's also changed my perception of gifts. I would much rather spend an hour of time with a friend or relative than receive a material object. I don't quantify love or success with stuff. Life is about experiences. Sometimes you need stuff for those experience, but it still makes you think twice.
When I came across this
article, this quote really struck me:
"Americans in particular like to be prepared for the worst-case-scenario,
having separate cookie cutters for Christmas and Halloween."
It's so true. Society pressures us to think we need all of these different things. And why would you get rid of things when you *might* need them some day?
I continually come across stories on the internet of people who finally realize stuff is holding them back. There are stories of stay-at-home moms who decide not to buy anything new and find it's much easier that seems. There are stories of young people who live off of what they can carry in a backpack and find that life is more fulfilling.
I find that the average American tends to place a higher priority on things over people. And the economic crisis only seemed to marginally help the situation. Things don't make people happy. People make people happy.
Naturally, a person needs a certain amount of stuff. I do! But I think more people need to consider downsizing and decluttering. It's a very fung-shui idea, but I think it evokes very positive changes.
But that's another story for another time.
