Losing Everything

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Abstract

fun. Because you’re not losing stuff, you’re getting stuff. When you don’t have much stuff, getting stuff feels fabulous.That said, it seems as if you can’t go more than half an hour these days before being nagged to simplify, discard, minimize, de-clutter.<figure id="d126"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*pBFTzhHkpXjvp7j-pGs6mQ.png"><figcaption>Aftermath of Hurricane Sandy in Breezy Point, New York 2012 — <a href="https://www.fema.gov/media-library/assets/images/67450">FEMA.gov</a></figcaption></figure>I don’t know about other people, but it feels as if I need a good house fire or other disaster to pry all this stuff away from me. I don’t read all those books crowding my too-many book cases, but that doesn’t stop me from browsing the sales racks outside of the Strand bookstore. Right, I can’t fit into those (six pairs of) pants anymore……..but they’re really great pants and I might lose the weight. Remember that night I invited Pete and Robert over for Movie Night and only had two plates? That’s not happening again.Most everyone reading this, like myself, has too much stuff. And almost every day, we get more stuff. I sold, gave away, and threw away a LOT of stuff when I moved to New York City. But you wouldn’t know it to look at my apartment today.Yes, I do accumulate too much stuff. What I don’t do is worry about losing all that stuff.There’s an upside to standing in the snow as everything you own goes up in a blaze of fire while the neighbors stand around with their mouths open. You come out of that knowing it’s not the stuff. It never

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was. Stuff comes and goes. I don’t even worry much about getting rid of more stuff. I make a good faith effort to not bring another thing into the apartment without getting rid of some other thing. This tends to be kind of hit or miss. Again, I don’t worry about it.There are people in this city who have never lost all their stuff and never will. I don’t know as that’s really a good thing. Being safely insulated from the realities of the rest of one’s species can lead to all kinds of misconceptions about what some people deserve and what others don’t. Someone could start to feel like they’re, I don’t know, entitled to all this stuff and should have more stuff. But worse is an unspoken, maybe even unrealized, hidden panic at the prospect of maybe possibly having some of one’s stuff taken away or otherwise lost. People who aren’t aware of their own fears can be very dangerous. People who haven’t come through the other side of losing all their stuff never understand how resilient they really are. People who never have to start from the ground up tend to not be very empathetic to other’s losses.Not that I’m feeling sorry for them or anything.But I do feel that having been destitute, with only the clothes I was wearing, having to make the rounds of bureaucracy to start over at the most basic levels of getting shelter, clothing, and second-hand furniture has freed me from some dangerous and false beliefs.I’m always curious to hear other people’s stories of how major losses impacted their lives. This is mine so far.© Remington Write 2019. All Rights Reserved.</article></body>

Why it’s important

I’ve lost everything I owned twice in my life. Or maybe I should say I’ve only lost everything I owned twice in my life.

That’s damned good luck in a very uncertain world.

But standing in the snow, watching flames shooting out the windows of the house I’d left two hours earlier and straining to hear the first sirens didn’t feel like good luck. Walking through the icy, charred nightmare of what had been a kitchen at dinner time felt like serious bad luck. And far, far worse: the fire killed our dog and my partner’s father. What was that about good luck again?

The second time I lost everything I owned, I didn’t actually lose everything. I brought a suitcase back with me on the red-eye when all my plans for a California paradise caved in. These two catastrophes occurred within three years of each other. I hadn’t actually accumulated all that much stuff to lose the second time, but landing on a cold, dreary northeastern Ohio morning with couches to surf and not much else, I felt stripped bare. Again.

As Joni Mitchell had it: You don’t know what you got til it’s gone.

Aside from those two extremes, I’ve also simply started over a bunch of times, setting up new homes either with partners or on my own. That’s quite different. That’s fun. Because you’re not losing stuff, you’re getting stuff. When you don’t have much stuff, getting stuff feels fabulous.

That said, it seems as if you can’t go more than half an hour these days before being nagged to simplify, discard, minimize, de-clutter.

Aftermath of Hurricane Sandy in Breezy Point, New York 2012 — FEMA.gov

I don’t know about other people, but it feels as if I need a good house fire or other disaster to pry all this stuff away from me. I don’t read all those books crowding my too-many book cases, but that doesn’t stop me from browsing the sales racks outside of the Strand bookstore. Right, I can’t fit into those (six pairs of) pants anymore……..but they’re really great pants and I might lose the weight. Remember that night I invited Pete and Robert over for Movie Night and only had two plates? That’s not happening again.

Most everyone reading this, like myself, has too much stuff. And almost every day, we get more stuff. I sold, gave away, and threw away a LOT of stuff when I moved to New York City. But you wouldn’t know it to look at my apartment today.

Yes, I do accumulate too much stuff. What I don’t do is worry about losing all that stuff.

There’s an upside to standing in the snow as everything you own goes up in a blaze of fire while the neighbors stand around with their mouths open. You come out of that knowing it’s not the stuff. It never was. Stuff comes and goes. I don’t even worry much about getting rid of more stuff. I make a good faith effort to not bring another thing into the apartment without getting rid of some other thing. This tends to be kind of hit or miss. Again, I don’t worry about it.

There are people in this city who have never lost all their stuff and never will. I don’t know as that’s really a good thing. Being safely insulated from the realities of the rest of one’s species can lead to all kinds of misconceptions about what some people deserve and what others don’t. Someone could start to feel like they’re, I don’t know, entitled to all this stuff and should have more stuff. But worse is an unspoken, maybe even unrealized, hidden panic at the prospect of maybe possibly having some of one’s stuff taken away or otherwise lost. People who aren’t aware of their own fears can be very dangerous. People who haven’t come through the other side of losing all their stuff never understand how resilient they really are. People who never have to start from the ground up tend to not be very empathetic to other’s losses.

Not that I’m feeling sorry for them or anything.

But I do feel that having been destitute, with only the clothes I was wearing, having to make the rounds of bureaucracy to start over at the most basic levels of getting shelter, clothing, and second-hand furniture has freed me from some dangerous and false beliefs.

I’m always curious to hear other people’s stories of how major losses impacted their lives. This is mine so far.