Most Things Aren’t Just Things

I’ve heard people talk about purging, getting rid of things. Live minimally! De-clutter! You’ll free your mind when you free your space of stuff. After all, things are “just things”. Not in my world.

In my world, most things aren’t just things. Most things in my home and life have a story. Some stories are better than others, but either way, I have them for a reason, not just to fill space. So many of the things I have came into my life in a special way, even if I didn’t realize it at the time. Having these things means I can look at them and evoke a memory. Maybe they take me back to that moment in time when I acquired them. Or to a time when I used it in a certain way, or, in the case of things I inherited, a memory before it was even mine. Perhaps I’ll think about where I was, or who I was with when I got it, and why I love and still have the item.  In some way, it has meaning. And if it’s worth telling, I’ll share a story about it to someone who seems interested. And that usually leads to a conversation that wouldn’t have happened otherwise. I like it when that happens.

I don’t acquire stuff for the sake of having stuff – especially if I know something was mass produced in a factory in China – these are not the kinds of things I’m talking about. Those things don’t have the story, the character, or the meaning that I crave. The things I have took tiiiiiiime to acquire. And, over the course of my life and especially my 40-ish years of adulthood, I’ve acquired so many things by now that I don’t really go looking for more. Yes, I’ll go to Brimfield, or a flea market, or to our neighborhood yard sale, and I’ll usually pick something up here and there. I also have a keen eye for trash day. Finding good free stuff has a special kind of joy attached to it. But Most things I have today I have had for years, many for decades, some for my entire life.

Clearly none of the things posted below are expensive or valuable to anyone but me. They may or may not be seen as beautiful. But because of what I know about them, to me, they are irreplaceable.

A bunch of curated not-just-things: a piece of an Ionic column capital I found at an old job. Some Egyptian-inspired 19th century candlestick holders from my grandparents, a small black and white print that a neighbor gave me, a sketch-painting my mother-in-law did for a larger piece, some bark and pieces of wood, and some books. Bruegel was my father’s favorite artist. The books on him were my father’s. They sit on an old secretary top I got at a thrift shop. The framed art work was done by my gifted grandmother, Hilma.

This lamp is one of the first non-essential things I bought for myself. I was in my mid-20s. I bought it at an antique market in Cambridge. It was being sold as part of a pair. The woman wanted $30 for the pair. I didn’t have that much money, so she let me buy one for $15. Sometimes I wish I had sprung for the additional $15. Each candlestick holder to the left has their own story, as do each of the books. The driftwood was found in Maine.

I gave these guys a special home for the winter. They’ll rejoin the flock at sometime in the near future.

For some silly reason we started giving my father ducks for Christmas one year. It became a tradition that lasted many years. I keep the ducks lined up in a row, as one should do.

This is a Shaker chair from the mid 1800s that my mother re-rushed herself. I love the patina on the wood. There are some pine needles on the seat left over from Christmas. I found an iron finial in the ballfield near my home which works well as a paperweight. The book on top of the pile was written by my aunt, a Swedish landscape architect: “The Garden as a Hobby”.

I bought a pair of these candle holders for $5 from a friend at the neighborhood yard sale. They sat in a closet for at least 5 years before I realized they would be great in our dining room. They create the most magical dinner lighting imaginable.

I bought this little boot from a woman selling items made by and for Ukrainian children. When I look at it, I count my blessings.

I could post a thousand “things”. But I won’t. So…what’s the point of this post? I guess it’s just to suggest that maybe we shouldn’t just throw things away like they’re “just things”. Nor should we acquire things like they’re “just things”; as if they are temporary, disposable, meaningless. If we acquire things carefully, and utilize and arrange them thoughtfully, we’ll have collected special things that last a lifetime and really mean something. Instead of creating clutter, we can curate a mindful, sustainable way of finding joy and meaning in the things we surround ourselves with. Just a thought.