Giving up
I had an interesting conversation with a co-worker the other day. It began with a discussion about debt and the desire to get out and keep out of debt. My anti-debt feelings should be no surprise to the readers of my blog. Anyway, the discussion eventually transitioned to things less tangible than family budgets. Most notably, we discussed how the handling of our resources reflected our faith, our general view of the world, and our feelings about our place in the world. It was an appropriate conversation with the with the holidays and holiday gift-giving/receiving coming up. That conversation also introduced me to the Junky Car Club. Check that out sometime.
Anyway, I shared part of my gradually developing story. Over the last two years, my wife and I have worked hard to clean house. Now I won't go into the anti-debt-speech as I've done that several times before. Beyond that, though, I've been working to run a tighter ship. That sounds vague, I know. What I mean is that I've been trying to concentrate my time, money, and effort on those things that mean most to me. What am I passionate about? It's really been an exercise in saying no. As a result, there have been a few hobbies like woodworking, sculpting, and Flash animation that haven't received a lot of attention lately. On the other hand, I've been able to focus my attention on other things like drawing. I miss those things and do expect to get back to them but it might not be for awhile. As it was, keeping everything on the plate meant that I couldn't really focus on anything.
I read an article quite awhile ago (it's been on my to-blog list for a long time) . Essentially, it discusses how we, as humans, tend to place a higher value on things simply because those things are ours. That is, once something is in our possession, we're suddenly more zealous in keeping it that we ever were to get it. It's probably best to use a for instance. I have a old Huffy banana-seat bicycle. It's metallic green, has a sparkly green vinyl seat, sparkly hand grips, and is, overall, flippin' sweet. I picked it up at Goodwill several years ago. Here's the thing...I really can't ride it. Seriously, the wheels are 20". It's made for a kid and it's downright painful for my 6'+ frame to ride it. I could sell it for more money than I'd realistically pay for it now. But I keep it around because it's mine and it's cool. Well, I was keeping it around. Its up for sale now. I'm saying no to cluttering up the garage. It'll be sad to see it go but I really won't miss it.
Wow. Talk about a lack of focus...
4 comments:
I think you add more info about this idea. I read it very much.
Matt, you're the second person to say as much.
Here's an interesting anecdote from when we moved last year. While packing up, we found it very hard to take things from our home and send them to Goodwill instead of boxing them up. But when we were unpacking in the new house, there was a lot of stuff in those boxes, which we had been unwilling to give away during the packing, that we no longer cared to ever see again. We gave a lot more sentimental and nostalgic stuff to Goodwill during the unpacking than we did during the packing.
If I were the type of person that took such anecdotes and fashioned them into exercises, here's an exercise I'd try. If you know you don't need something, but you feel too attached to it for its nostalgia or coolness factor, try boxing it up for a couple weeks. You might have an easier time parting with it when you've lived without it for a bit.
That doesn't actually apply to your bike story here, since you already keep it in the garage. But that's often how it goes with anecdotes. They can't be tamed or made to fit our foolish plans.
To add to Matt's story: When we moved into our house a year ago, most everything got unpacked & a few things got thrown into closets, still in boxes. A year later, we're talking about getting rid of the stuff still in boxes- if we lived without it for a year, do we really need it at all? Probably not.
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