Stuff: A Collector's Tale

Image: Flickr, BuzzFarmers

Stuff. I have a lot of it, or at least I did. I still do really, even after selling quite a bit. 

Despite the precarious mountain that still exists, I've steadily worked to detach myself from "stuff" over the last few weeks - working with a goal to replace "stuff" with experiences.

 

In my mind, it would be an easy journey, no real pain I could foresee. A creature, bound to logic - I wanted to look back on life, and see where, when given the opportunity, I did something. 

Well, more than something, but in truth anything, as long as I had a story to tell, and not one that involved looking back on thirty hours of button mashing to save the world from an alien menace... again. 

More than that though, I wanted to upend the value equation in my own life. For the romantics out there, I wanted to see sunsets, hike through the forest... camp... run... walk... breathe rain-filled air. I wanted to live... a different life than I had been.

Simple, right?

It has been actually. With services like Amazon, unloading a life's collection of things has its bumps in the road, but is in fact, quite painless. So much so, I hadn't given much thought to what I was doing. My focus was on a personal goal to make a small amount of cash, and donate what didn't sell to friends, family or someone that could make better use of it. 

As I quickly found out though, others began to wonder what was happening. The culmination of which came when someone mentioned they felt bad I had to sell my "stuff," and it reminded them of The 40-Year-Old Virgin. Something I imagine was on the tip of everyone's tongue.

I laughed at the possibility, and moved the conversation forward with an emphatic, yet uncomfortable chuckle. I smiled, "No. Not at all." 

Pfff. They were completely wrong I thought to myself.  First, that guy sold all his stuff on eBay, and I was using Amazon. Big difference. Second, that movie is about a guy, so scarred by intimacy he buries any attempt at pleasure in the collection of things. He placed comfort and intrinsic value into the pristine, virgin nature of his stuff collectibles. Rather than risk the continued rejection from women, not to mention the ups and downs of life, he retreated to his apartment where he created a world that didn't talk back, it was merely one way, fully under his control. Like some medieval dragon, he was the master of his domain, and he marveled at his hoard of precious treasures and trink... 

Oh crap.

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P.S. You can still buy some of my "stuff" here: http://www.amazon.com/shops/atheriusgames