A forthcoming transcontinental move; the inheritance of a flat where items had accumulated over several decades; and the sale of a house which had to be completely emptied, forced me to re-evaluate my usual, hereditary,foresightful attitude towards objects: the 'just in case' strategy could no longer justify me holding onto a plethora of items, which one day might (or might not) prove useful. Over the years and in several locations worldwide, I had ended up becoming submerged by unused or rotting things from the bottomless pit of possibilities never actualised.
And so I, light-heartedly, and pressed for time, let go of so much, in better ways than the endless waiting I had originally condemned it to: I donated what was still sellable and useful;recycled what was unsellable; disposed of what was unrecyclable. I felt so much lighter and realised that by keeping all those objects I had been perpetuating a life in the past through tangible memories, or in the future through a Godotian wait for endless possibilities of needs. This re-evaluation, in turn, led me to a reflection on the things we surround ourselves with. In a way, our living and working spaces are an extension of ourselves. Mindfulness can assist us inacknowledging whether what is around us responds to our present needs/wants, or reflects who we are at that point in time. If not, consider the options above, and let energy circulate.
Even better, before buying, we could use a little mindfulness by asking ourselves whether we really need/want the item, or why; whether we could consider borrowing it (for example, bicycle or car share scheme); or it could be easily recyclable; or it can be exchanged/bartered, or it is environmentally friendly. In our consumeristic culture, owning objects is not simply a right, but also a responsibility in terms of origin, maintenance, and disposal.