Hi. My name is Whitney and I like stuff. I love the whole process of stuff: the list-making, the shopping, the selecting. I love walking around each aisle in Target, looking for new items in stock. I love that pretty much any item in the world is available on Amazon. It’s my special brand of crack.
Around this time of year, though, I find myself once again confronted by the stuff I have. Christmas, with all its gifts and excess, is just behind me, and the new year is yet in front of me. The chaotic aftermath of the holidays is still around my feet. The tree is still up (I know!) and the Christmas cards still adorn the living room. Daniel and I are back to our normal life, yet the remnants of the holidays are there, mocking our resolve.
My first reaction to this conflict is to scream, “Where did this stuff all come from?!” Silly me. Target and Amazon, of course.
I think modern people, especially those with families, have a complicated relationship with the things we own. We hear a lot about the evils of materialism, of commercialism. Parents know that Christmas is big part of this. Don’t buy too many toys for your children, they say. Be sure to simplify in the new year. All of this is good advice. There is life-changing truth here. But I think something is still missing.
The holidays end with chaos and the temptation to throw everything aside rears its head. But as I give the new year time and life a chance to put on its normal clothes, stuff goes back to its rightful place in life. It’s not a moral issue or even one of a good life. Stuff is just the normal particles of life and needs time to resettle.
Stuff can be just stuff. It doesn’t have to rule us, make us miserable, or even make us happy. It just is. Whether or not I have that perfect cooking pan I wanted for Christmas will not make my life ultimately better or worse. Sure, it’s beautiful (gorgeous, really) and nice to have, but it’s a pan.
Nate absolutely loved unwrapping each and every toy this holiday. He’s the only grandchild for my parents and one of two grandchildren for Daniel’s parents, so there was no lack of generosity on either side. There were blocks, books, cars, and every other toy possible to unwrap. He was happy before any of it was bought and he’ll be just as happy in June, when the last new toy has lost its novelty. In the meantime, he’s enjoying the kindness of those who love him and yelling for me to make that racing car go faster.
Life is unpredictable and stuff is stuff. Hold things loosely, whether it’s Christmas morning or whether it’s three weeks later, when you’re still finding yourself putting everything away.
That’s true simplicity.