The Joy of Things

De-cluttering seems to be all the rage these days. Writers and practitioners are becoming wealthy helping people conquer their "stuff."  The Swedes have their death cleaning, the Japanese keep only what gives them joy, and my favorite habit and happiness author Gretchen Rubin writes about Outer Order, Inner Calm.

I admit that both the act of de-cluttering and the end result provide a sense of accomplishment and, yes, joy.  But I have a dirty little secret.  My "stuff" brings me joy, too.  Often on our adventures, our fellow travelers will say, "I'm not buying anything.  We're downsizing.  I don't need any more stuff." Meanwhile, I'm busily filling my suitcase with the perfect picture or knick-knack to commemorate the trip.  And I seldom stop at just one.  

Our house is filled with mementos from our journeys, and they bring us genuine joy.  They help us remember where we've been, what we've seen, and the people we've met.  They are great conversation starters.  And they just make me smile.

But as we travel more, it is becoming a bit harder to remember the stories that go with the things. Even worse, I sometimes can't remember the place -- was it Guatemala or Bolivia? Laos or Myanmar.  And our kids say, "I hope you are writing this down so someday, when you're gone, we'll know where you got all these lovely treasures." What a great sense of purpose to reinforce my renewed habit of writing -- tell the tales of all those things we love and why they give us the wonderful joy of memories.