Recently on my way home from work I drove by a newly bulldozed construction site. The embers of trees still smoldering. A sign announced the coming of, yet another, self-storage complex. Really? Are all the other storage places full? How many of these do we need?
I ask only because of my recent need to concern myself with flight. In a situation such as this, collections of things don’t matter, clothes don’t matter, and yes (gasp) books didn’t matter. These are just things. I have a job and I can buy what I need again. All I needed was cash, which I’d been squirreling away, and a hotel room to hide in.
Another reason I ask is because of the number of deaths in my family had contributed to that accumulation. I didn’t even like some of the things I’d been keeping. I only kept it out of respect or for sentimental reasons. One question I asked myself was what my kids would need to do with my things when I passed.
With an even more recent divorce, I cast off a lot of the things I didn’t need. I called a trash pick-up company and filled an entire 24 foot truck with–garbage. Things that would have gone into storage. Since I don’t have the income to afford storage, I tossed it all. Getting rid of some of those things still stings sometimes, but emotionally unloading all that baggage felt wonderful.
So do we really need to bulldoze another site for self-storage, or a place to dump it? Why collect all that stuff in the first place? Yeah, ok, still working on that one because I still like to go shopping at quaint little stores or pick up an antique when I’m out of town. Guess my kids will either be storing or tossing my things when I pass. Sorry, guys. Love you!