Does you own stuff or does stuff own you?

I once had this grand idea that I’d be able to pack my whole life into a 6×4 trailer and move to wherever I wanted whenever I wanted. A fanciful dream it seems because now – at the age of 32 – I have amassed a clutter of absolute crap.

It was never meant to be like this. I’m all for owning the things I need – a hammer, a screwdriver, a few pairs of shoes – you get the idea. So, how did I end up with all this stuff? I think I succumbed to the consumer lifestyle. I wanted it all, and I wanted it now. Thank God I didn’t allow myself to use credit. Perish the thought.

Anyway, I’m midway through listening to Timothy Ferriss’s enlightening book called The 4 Hour Work Week and it has made me take a good, hard look at my accumulated clutter.

So, yesterday, I put on my ruthless hat, told my wife to hold onto our son and clear a path. I was on a mission and I was going to break for no man (or woman). First on the list was my magazine collection, why did I still have magazines from 2003? Out they went. Then I took a look at my bookshelf. I hoarde books. But no more. Out went everything that I merely suspected I’d never be interested in reading again (I kept the ones I love). Then I sifted through the 50 or so books I’d collected and hadn’t read yet. About half I probably will never read, so I’ve sent them off to friends or boxed them up for charity. Then there was my CD collection. Somewhere over 350 CDs and I’ve culled about 30% (I’m going back for more this evening).

And, you know what, I feel great. I was dying under the weight of all my stuff. I was guilty for not reading, listening and watching. But now I can just relax. I’m not doing anything because my stuff demands it.

Feel the catharsis. Go forth and cull. Ruthlessly! And have fun doing it.