Of Materials, Things and Possessions

by Kale

I am a collector.

I collect things.

I started with cards when I was little. All manner of cards. Almost.

I grew up a bit and wanted to collect hats. I had a good start. Until I started losing them one by one by leaving them on the vans that I used to travel on to go to school. So, that stopped.

This time, I collect books. It started when I relearned how to read and appreciate books. How to enjoy a world apart from that which we live in. Worlds not yet created in the silver screen. Worlds that live only in our mind’s eye.

I have a couple of a variety of magazines on the top of my shelf, too. Some CDs in one drawer. And a bit more than a few DVDs.

They’re things. My possessions. Materials I own.

Last night was also when I realised that I still have too many of them.

I used to keep everything. Even my books and notebooks from preschool used to still be with me.

Until three spring cleanings ago. That was when I started to learn to let go of things past. I started throwing things out. Little by little they disappeared. Now, the oldest ones I have are ones from high school – senior year.

Still, I’ve acquired new materials and last night made me feel that, while they pale in comparison to the sheer number of materials that the rich and affluent own, I need to cut off more.

I’ve always been fascinated about how people of old can move around. They could go places with only a single backpack on them – necessities. They never did have too many yet they are able to live.

For people of today, that doesn’t seem quite possible. I couldn’t think of anyone who can possibly leave their own place without at least a luggage bag on them. Well, for people who have a decent roof above their heads.

What I want to be able to do is to cut off my attachments towards these possessions. They have become nothing more than excess baggage. I want it to be so that when the worse becomes worst, I wouldn’t spend many a nights grieving over the loss of these things.

These things have become too much a part of me. And I realise now that they can become poison if I let them grow further. I do not want to be the person who makes her own poison.

It’s not bound to be easy. And I know that I can’t stop wanting having more things. Yet I recognise the fact that I have to want them less.

I will keep them.

What needs to be done is to cut off my strings from them so that they are no longer able to weigh me down.

These things are perishable.

We are perishable.

Attaching ourselves to that which can only come to pass does us no good. They only serve to diminish us. It is time we realise that there are better things and these better things we cannot find here.

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