I start the first session of “The Psychology of Stuff,” the class I’m teaching at Stony Brook University in the OLLI program, by taking attendance (which is required). But when I call their names, I ask class members to choose one thing in their lives they’d love to get rid of before next week's class.
Some of the items people chose last year were hilarious:
“Anything with shoulder pads.”
“The extra furnace in the basement.”
“A painting my aunt did and left me that I really hate.”
“A loveseat in the garage that I’ve had since the sixties.”
“Some sports shirts. I must have 100.”
“A Mickey Mouse TV set that was my daughter’s.”
“A chair with a broken spoke back that I planned to make into a stool.”
“The twin bed frames that my brother and I slept on.”
This year’s entries were more expected, though just as heartfelt:
“My Mother-of-the-Bride and Mother-of-the-Groom dresses.”
“Tax returns from the 1970s.”
“A console TV.”
“Forty years of teaching materials.”
“Children’s books I was saving in the basement for my future grandchildren. The kids are here, the books are moldy.”
“All those plastic containers whose tops and bottoms don’t fit.”
“Years of art magazines I was planning to use for inspiration.”
Perhaps because the items they chose were more down-to-earth, this year’s class did better in getting them out of their lives fast. Removing a non-working furnace or a loveseat your spouse is attached to (figuratively, not literally) takes a little more effort.
It’s fun to identify something that’s been nagging at the edge of your consciousness--like the shelf of cheap vases and baskets that hang around long after the floral arrangements that came in them have returned to that great garden in the sky--identify them and have someone assure you that you can get them out of your life.
Try picking out something that you haven't quite been able to part with but want to--I give you permission to discard it this week. I'd love to hear what it is!
Some of the items people chose last year were hilarious:
“Anything with shoulder pads.”
“The extra furnace in the basement.”
“A painting my aunt did and left me that I really hate.”
“A loveseat in the garage that I’ve had since the sixties.”
“Some sports shirts. I must have 100.”
“A Mickey Mouse TV set that was my daughter’s.”
“A chair with a broken spoke back that I planned to make into a stool.”
“The twin bed frames that my brother and I slept on.”
This year’s entries were more expected, though just as heartfelt:
“My Mother-of-the-Bride and Mother-of-the-Groom dresses.”
“Tax returns from the 1970s.”
“A console TV.”
“Forty years of teaching materials.”
“Children’s books I was saving in the basement for my future grandchildren. The kids are here, the books are moldy.”
“All those plastic containers whose tops and bottoms don’t fit.”
“Years of art magazines I was planning to use for inspiration.”
Perhaps because the items they chose were more down-to-earth, this year’s class did better in getting them out of their lives fast. Removing a non-working furnace or a loveseat your spouse is attached to (figuratively, not literally) takes a little more effort.
It’s fun to identify something that’s been nagging at the edge of your consciousness--like the shelf of cheap vases and baskets that hang around long after the floral arrangements that came in them have returned to that great garden in the sky--identify them and have someone assure you that you can get them out of your life.
Try picking out something that you haven't quite been able to part with but want to--I give you permission to discard it this week. I'd love to hear what it is!
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