Yesterday I made a list of things I needed to buy the next time I go to the mall: rubber spatula, potholders, and plastic/vinyl placemats. Then I recalled a recent headline in the Boston Globe—something about all the stuff we hoard. “I don’t hoard,” I tell myself!
Back to my list.
• Spatula: I don’t need a new one. The one I have is more than adequate, even with its few nicks.
• Potholders: I do need new ones. The ones I am currently using have holes and my figures are getting burned.
• Placemats: I don’t need new ones. I have a chest full, in fact, enough to last for our life time, in fact I hoard them. I may not be able to wipe them clean, but I can throw them in the washing machine
Here’s my current, personal definition of hoarding: having more than I need, not using what I have, and buying more to stash away, to hoard.
My usual way of getting rid of stuff is by giving or throwing it away. I have my usual places: trash can, ‘put-and-take’, church fair, Salvation Army, gifting, and now a new one—using it myself, use it up. I love this new simplicity.
Back to my list.
• Spatula: I don’t need a new one. The one I have is more than adequate, even with its few nicks.
• Potholders: I do need new ones. The ones I am currently using have holes and my figures are getting burned.
• Placemats: I don’t need new ones. I have a chest full, in fact, enough to last for our life time, in fact I hoard them. I may not be able to wipe them clean, but I can throw them in the washing machine
Here’s my current, personal definition of hoarding: having more than I need, not using what I have, and buying more to stash away, to hoard.
My usual way of getting rid of stuff is by giving or throwing it away. I have my usual places: trash can, ‘put-and-take’, church fair, Salvation Army, gifting, and now a new one—using it myself, use it up. I love this new simplicity.