Our attachment to stuff

I'm reminded right now of the Buddhist poet who, upon finding his home had been raided by bandits, wrote that his burglars had managed to steal everything he valued except the moonlight shining on his windowsill.


I have no TV, no table, no desk, and only loveseat to sit on, and right now that sits in the kitchen because the carpet cleaners needed it out of the way. I will sleep tonight, as I did last night, on a futon mattress on a bedroom floor. I'm getting by, I suppose. I spend a lot of time in my local Starbucks (plural Starbucks) because wireless is spotty in my neighborhood and the DSL modem is in a box headed for London right now. I've learned with how little it really takes to survive. We don't need that much, in reality, and certainly where I"m going I'll have a lot less stuff and live a far simpler life in terms of belongings. At this point, I'm looking forward to it. But what really amazes me is how much stuff two people in one house for three years can accumulate. The photo above is of but one of three truckloads of discarded items that will make its way to the landfill from my house. Somehow, I get by, and it takes less than we think.