I read this article a couple weeks ago in the Sunday New York Times, and it rang so true for me– but it has not always been so. I love Things. Like, seriously, am enamored with Stuff. This may have something to do with the fact that, for the last couple years, I’ve been working for what I’ll generously call a “student wage,” but I hope that it also is a reflection of efforts I’ve made to place more emphasis on experiences rather than Stuff. Besides the fact that, as a mid-to-late twenty-something, I’ve had to move most of my worldly possessions from place to place about four times (in the last four years, jeez), it has become clear to me that, while certain objects can evoke memories of a certain place and time, memories don’t necessarily need to be accompanied by a commemorative shot glass.
I’m nowhere near becoming one of those people who only owns one hundred things, but let’s say that I am now more confident that our next move will be a bit less painful.
What about you, friends? Are you a Stuff person? Could you even imagine living with 100 things?