The Purge: Pt. 1

As I constantly search for the meaning of self, or the ability to relinquish such longing, I strive to participate in processes that allow transformation indicative of such results. As the recent holiday seasons arrived this past year, I found myself despondent around the question of what do I want. I replied that I wanted nothing to a degree from a place of indecisiveness, but more so in accordance with my recent want to have less stuff. I look around my room, at all that has accumulated over the years, and recognize the clutter of the space that in turn results in the clutter of my mind. I had sporadic moments in 2014 where I tried to reduce this surrounding clutter, always failing to really reduce significantly enough to make any impact on both spaces. I failed to transform the clutter of the physical space as well as the clutter of my mind. I found myself holding on to materials with a vision of a future that wished that I had never let go. I have not become an owner of material things, I have instead become owned. I found myself preaching a lifestyle filled with simplicity, enough to meet necessities and live comfortably, yet I held on to objects for the mere vision of what possession of such objects entailed. I found myself pulling out the same clothes, the same old school materials, the same birthday gifts, etc. and though such objects have been untouched for years, I convinced myself of their possible future importance. A future importance that for years has never occurred. This year I have resolved to live in the present, and with such a resolution, I have committed myself to creating a physical space that is a reflection of, and a pathway to, the moment of now.

My longing for such a transformation has been fermenting for a long time. As a child I remember wanting to live with nature, be minimal, and mindful of the environment. It saddened me to see the world as a dichotomy of humanity and of nature. Of course, these are sophisticated explanations for what I really felt at that age. In truth I simply wanted to be a Native American (true story) living in a tee pee, surviving off of the land that I was a part of. The present me has grown accustomed to my living environment to such a degree that I no longer wish to live THAT simply, however, the idea of living with less continues to appeal to my cluttered soul. We are all striving for happiness in a society that preaches happiness with the accumulation of stuff, yet it is becoming more and more clear, that this happiness is short-lived. Often times those with more reach depression to such heights that they jump off one. In line with that, are reports of cultures that live simply and happily. Cultures that spend their time on accumulating relationships instead of cars, that are mindful when it comes to matters of the self, of humanity, of nature, all as one, and are able to continue such mindfulness in times of abundance as well as times of struggle. I know that I will likely never reach such times of struggle, but can I reach such levels of happiness?

The idea of having less to have more is not a revolutionary one. At least some of our Western society is moving in this direction; evident in the tiny house movement, the acceptance of Buddhist principles, etc. I guess I’ve finally done enough of watching the movement, and am ready to become an active participant. Unfortunately I am in no position to construct a tiny house, however, I am ready for tiny living. I am ready to have what I need, some of what I want, and nothing more. I am ready to clear my current space, with the intention of having little enough to move on to a smaller one in the future.

I am not clear yet, what the end result of such a decision looks like. I am unsure of just how much will go, and just how much will stay. However, I am confident that these uncertainties will be answered throughout the process. It may be more difficult than I imagined, or it may be easier once I get momentum to cut the cords of the materials that have over the years, grown to own me. My biggest fear is getting to the end, and realizing that there has been no notable transformation, aside from the riddance of stuff. I imagine that this will not be the reality, but I find it better to be honest with the fear I face, than push it into the trenches. At the very least, I hope to gain clarity of the mind and I believe this to be a reasonable result. The purge starts today, its endpoint unknown. I find transformation often occurs in reflection of the processes that lead to change, so I will report on the process as I feel is necessary. Today is day one. Today I learn to let that shit go.