- R. Bruce Logan, "The Narrative Arc"
The Joy Of Stuff
Hence I had no frame of reference for the following quip, which has been showing up at least once or twice a day for the past few weeks on my Facebook feed:
I also understand about being organized. Not that I am. But I understand the concept.
But this idea of the retention or disposal of items being based on whether or not they give one joy...that doesn't compute too clearly in my cerebral hard drive.
I spent some trying trying to figure out why I can't relate to Marie Kondo's modus operandi before it finally hit me: Most of my stuff doesn't give me joy. I mean, I guess I like most of my stuff well enough to share space with it, but joy? That's an emotion with a lot of propulsion behind it.
Chair covers with light blue sashes. Anybody need 'em?
And there are the LGBTQ and transgender rights flags hanging over my front porch.
Seeing those as I come and go gives me some joy,
I do receive joy from my photo albums,
...and from my book,
…as did our bed,
Same goes for the furniture in this bedroom. These pieces also came from Tom’s great aunt but are newer than the ones in our bedroom.
But then there would be a big empty spot in the room.
And so I keep it.
...a dresser from Tom's childhood bedroom set,
I expect that having not enough stuff can be as oppressive as having too much.
It's probably all a matter of acquiring the right stuff.
*The Dude was the philosophical anti-hero who owned a rug which gave him joy the fantastic flick "The Big Lebowski."