Black Oak's Daughter

Sorry for the gap between posting. Winter came to visit and things like getting to and from work took up a little more time and energy than usual.  The good news is that the snow blower started right up this morning like it hadn’t been sitting all summer with the gas from last year in it.  Thank goodness for electric starters too. My chiropractor would kill me if I even tried to pull start that beast.

So on to lesson number two:  Stuff is just stuff.

I was diagnosed with cancer a full month before my surgery. I had a lot of time to think in that month, and I needed to be really careful not to get sucked into a doom and gloom mindset. In an attempt to not think about the cancer that was growing in me, I spent a lot of time at work, or helping Roomie redecorate my bedroom and office, or “putting my affairs in order”.  As the surgery got closer I got somewhat responsible and did a lot of work toward that last one.

The more time and energy I put into writing my will and trust, the angrier I got. I struggled with a lot of it for a week or more. I wanted to get it done because my mother had done it long before she needed to and because of her efforts the state got nothing from her estate.  I at least wanted to do that. I’d already lost a lot to my divorce, I didn’t want to lose half of what was left to the state. But under all that rational thinking, this anger brewed. It hit me the day I finished my paperwork.

Who the fuck cares about my stuff?  Why did *I* even care as much as I did. It’s just stuff.   There I was, facing my own mortality, judging what was valuable in my life, trying to divvy up stuff between the people that I love, and it kept coming back to the same thing.  I wanted to make sure that my daughter and Roomie were both taken care of, and that they understood my intent, and that is all written into the paperwork. That was finished, and rethought, and redone a couple of times before I was satisfied with it.  The rest of the things that I was supposed to think about, who gets the things of my life, I couldn’t even begin to think about that.  Aside from a few valuables, some family treasures, and an antique or two, the rest of what I own can be classified as useless crap.

It was in that A Ha  moment that I realized just how little I cared who got 90% of the stuff that I own. They who would be left behind to deal with it could have a big bon fire for all that I cared at that moment. The most cherished part of my life is not the things that I own, it’s much more intangible. The most valued things in my life are not things. They are the people that I love, and that love me.

It was in that moment when I let go of my relationship to most of the things in my life.

I’ve written about my mother before. She had an emotional attachment to owning a lot of stuff. It didn’t matter what the stuff was, but she found security in being surrounded by it. I grew up with that. It was what I knew. I am supposed to keep things. That was what I was taught.  That afternoon, literally the day before my surgery, my emotional attachment to mostly crap changed.  Things in my life suddenly had a different place.

I have the essentials. My clothes, basic furniture, a fully stocked kitchen, a livable house, a car that runs. I’m very blessed that I have a comfortable life.  I try to live with thankfulness in my heart for that, because I know too many people that are struggling with unemployment and this economy and keeping a roof over their heads and a meal on the table.

I also have so many things that I no longer need, no longer cling to, and those things are slowly, too slowly, being properly disposed of. There is a term that I learned from playing D&D and other RPG’s  all those years ago. “Encumbrance”. There is a score for how much the things you bear hold you back. I was fully encumbered with rooms full of crap. Chaotic piles of stuff that I really had no feeling toward other than I needed to keep it because that’s what I was taught. The thing that I realized that day is that I don’t need to carry this load anymore. Since then, I am well into the process of shedding it.  There are entire rooms in my house that are virtually empty of any of that stuff. The peace, the sanctuary of that space that is empty of everything that doesn’t belong, is life changing.

In the process of getting rid of my crap, I am trying to be conscious of the planet and of people. Electronics that aren’t useful anymore are properly scrapped and things like that. I have a lot more stuff to go through and give away. Shelves full of books, games, craft supplies; drawers that are not currently useful because they are filled with things that I haven’t looked at, used, or worn, in years. It’s a huge process. When I first started, it was overwhelming. Now that I’m seeing progress, and it feels more right every time I get rid of another pile of stuff, to have a little less mess, a little more space, it gets easier.  I don’t worry about finishing huge cleaning projects, I just take small bites at a time. I tackle realistic projects. A drawer here, a box there.  It all adds up. Eventually there will be another unencumbered room, and as long as I don’t stop, eventually I will get through all of it. The best part is that I have so much fun giving things that I no longer need to people that can use them. A lot of what I’m getting rid of is still useful, just not to me. I don’t just toss most things, I work to give them new homes.  That is just as rewarding as reclaiming the space that they previously lived in.

The goal is simple. To be happy with what I have, to simplify my life to the point where I have useful things with a few extra niceties that bring me joy, and no real need for anything more.

Finally, I have to say, that I don’t know that I would have gotten to the realization about my stuff without having faced my mortality, so in a weird way I’m thankful for this huge lesson that cancer allowed me to learn.

There is a third lesson that I got from cancer, but it deals with the people in my life. If I can figure out how to write it without violating anyone’s privacy, and still somehow have it keep the meaning that it has for me, I will publish it soon.

Namaste

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