The Fine and Illustrious Art of Using Shit Up

Well, I'm still looking for a new pad.  Last week, I checked out a pretty good one (another Mecca of Coolness), but I'll discuss that in another entry.  Right now, my biggest issue revolves around the fact that I have about 2 months to declutter and get rid of as much crap as humanly possible.  I'm going from a 3-bedroom house, complete with basement and shitloads of hidey-holes, to a yet-to-be-named apartment where space and storage are all still unknown factors.  I am positive that I'll need to reduce my possessions by at least half -- no easy feat in any case!

One of my new ways of doing this has been referred to as The Fine and Illustrious Art of Using Shit Up.  In little ways, I am lightening my load -- eating all of my exotic stuff from the Asian grocery, using up my most treasured incense, bathing luxuriously in as much Lush as I feel like, giving away beautiful and useful things that I know will make my friends (as well as various charities) happy.  So, even when I don't have the strength to sift through boxes and bags and closets of junk, I'm still doing my part each day, little by little, lightening the load and clearing up the tiniest bit of space for my future move.

These days, I've been consistently reminding myself of an anecdote in Amy Tan's book (not The Joy Luck Club... the other book).  The narrator had an elderly aunt who was known to be rather stingy.  During each year at Christmas, her family would send Auntie a beautiful box of fancy chocolates.  One Christmas, they received a box of the same type of chocolate from her as well, and wouldn't you know it?  The chocolate was all white, dried out, and generally nasty.  It turns out that Auntie wouldn't enjoy the nice gifts that she was given; instead, she'd stuff the boxes of chocolate into her closet, saving them to regift.  Unfortunately, by the time an occasion was good enough to merit the chocolate as a gift, the candy had turned all gross and rancid -- not a very good gift at all!  So, not only did Auntie wind up giving her beloved relatives a big box of crap, she was also being very stingy with herself too.  The chocolates were saved because they were so special, yet no one got to enjoy them.  What a waste!  It also begs the question of why Auntie didn't think that she was worthy of such a nice prezzie, when obviously her family wanter her to savor the fancy chocolate?

The same concept can be applied to so many things that we're saving for a special occasion.  Instead of holding onto that expensive perfume you have, why not luxuriate in it instead -- before it turns into rancid crap that's worse than dollar-store body spray!?  Those fancy guest soaps that you've had on display since the 1990s?  They aren't impressing anybody anymore, so if they're now too gross to use, how about putting them to good use making your own laundry detergent?  These things take up our space, and somehow remind us that "today" isn't special enough, or maybe that we're not special enough, to just go all-out and enjoy whatever it is we're saving.  Use it up!  You'll be able to enjoy it while it's still good, and you'll be decluttering at the same time.