Boxed In: Thoughts on Packing and Owning "Stuff"

"That's the whole meaning of life.  Trying to find a place for your stuff."  

I've been thinking a lot about this quote the last couple of days.  George Carlin was truly a comedic genius and I regret that I have only come across his work in the past couple of years.  What makes Carlin an absolute legend is how astute he was in human nature.  The above quote is part of a five-minute long sketch where he talks about how our entire lives as human beings revolve around the concept of "stuff."  We have houses to hold our "stuff" while we go out and buy more "stuff."  When we have too much "stuff" we then need another, even bigger home.  We stay with friends and are confused by the "stuff" they own.  When we go on vacation, we immediately unpack our "stuff."  When we visit friends on vacation, it becomes even more difficult to pick which kind of "stuff" we take with us.  

These past three days I've been organizing and storing all my "stuff" into a 7' x 7' x 8' container pictured above.  I have been in my current place for three years, in San Diego for five years, and "on my own" post-college for seven years.  So, clearly as George Carlin would have you believe, I must be in possession of way too much "stuff," right?  

Actually, no.  

In fact, the above picture represents pretty much everything I own with the exception of a few smaller bags, and items that are placed in my car as well as a bike and bike rack attached to the trunk.  On the whole, I don't own a lot of "stuff".  A quick inventory:  1 car, 2 dressers, 4 bookshelves, 1 CD/DVD bookshelf, 1 DVD rack, 1 queen-sized mattress and box-spring, 1 fan, 1 humidifier, 2 lamps, books, clothes, 6 pillows, 5 posters, 3 boxes of school supplies/textbooks, 1 egg crate mattress, random gadgets and knickknacks and a metaphorical partridge in a pear tree.  

That's it.  

And you know what?  I'm okay with not owning a lot of stuff.  

I feel that the whole idea of owning "stuff" is a socially constructed way of measuring worth in today's society.  The problem is that we as a society value "stuff" way more than we should.  We see the person with the fancy cars and nice house and we automatically assume this person is successful, which most likely he or she is.  However, we don't question how this person got his or her money.  Was he or she a successful entrepreneur?  Did he or she inherit the money?  Is he or she a hedge fund manager?  Is he or she a drug dealer?  Is he or she an entertainer?  All we see as a society is someone rich and powerful, regardless of how they got there.  

In the movie American Beauty, the character played by Kevin Spacey has a revelation.  It occurs as he is trying to seduce his wife on an expensive leather sofa and is coming dangerously close to spilling wine on it.  When this happens, Spacey's wife warns him of this impending accident and Spacey himself flips out by screaming "It's just a couch!"  He then goes on to lecture his wife about how all their possessions have become more important to her than actually living a full life.  It is at this point in the film that Spacey realizes his marriage is beyond saving because his wife's "stuff" was more important to her than he'd ever be. 

I guess a lot of it depends on how you were raised.  For me, I was fortunate in that I was never surrounded by unnecessary "stuff."  Everything in my home had a purpose.  My friends' homes were the same way.  I guess this is what happens when you grow up in middle-class suburbia:  You don't yearn for things that you aren't exposed to.  I vividly recall an instance when I was twelve-years-old and my Dad and I dropped of a baseball teammate to his home.  As we pulled up I commented that it was a "small house."  Once my friend was dropped off, my father stopped the car and gave me a lecture as to why that was a disrespectful thing to say and why I shouldn't say thing like that again.  

Lesson learned.  

And yet, for many people the idea of having stuff is what drives them to make some ridiculous choices throughout life.  The lawyers on Wall Street aren't working 100 hour weeks because they love the law, they're working because they want to own "stuff."  People in line on Black Friday or during the new iPhone release days are literally knocking each other over to be the first ones to buy the "stuff" even though it will still be there at a future date.  Collectors will forgo their life savings to buy that one piece of memorabilia that completes their collection of other massively expensive "stuff."  Couples will get in fights and arguments over whether or not their newest "stuff" should be the convertible for Mom or Dad or the family-friendly minivan for them and the kids.  

For myself, owning "stuff" has never been a problem, but I've seen firsthand the destructive effect it can have on people close to me . I've had friends who have gotten into massive debt because they needed to own the latest "stuff" to add to their apartments.  At a time when they should have been saving money and investing it, all they saw were the newest plasma TVs, laptop computers, and gaming systems.  Unfortunately for them, their credit card became a blank check for which they would plop down large sums of money with no reasonable expectation to pay it back any time soon.  As more and more creditors began calling, these friends finally wised up and realized that their quest for "stuff" might not be the healthiest thing for them and their future credit score.  

As a Wandering Millennial, part of what makes this lifestyle possible is the fact that I don't own a lot of "stuff."  I haven't needed it.  I've always been perfectly content with the bare essentials.  I don't watch cable or play video games, so why would I need a 50" plasma TV?  I use my car to get from point A to point B so why would I need an Aston Martin?  I use my laptop computer for word processing, e-mail, and to store my music and pictures so why would I need a $5,000 top-of-the-line machine?  For me, all these items are superfluous.  In fact, with my current upcoming move, it will be the first time in my adult life that part of my essential "stuff" has included things like a couch and a dining room set.  Up until this point, I've never needed them.  

I guess that is what separates me from those who need "stuff."  I don't view "stuff" as a status symbol.  I'm highly skeptical of people who start conversations by asking how much money I make.  It doesn't matter how much I make or how many cars I own.  What matters is I'm a person with thoughts, feelings, ideas, hopes and dreams.  I realize that people like that represent a small segment of the population that I will never interact with.  I'm okay with that.  I'm okay with having a seven-year-old car with dents on the front bumper and rear taillight.  I'm okay with the fact that right now, I honestly couldn't tell you what the most expensive thing I own is, besides my car.  I'm okay with the fact that my laptop computer is five years old and the fact that my iPod is so outdated that it's a struggle to find a sleeve that actually fits it.   And, I'm perfectly okay with having everything I own fit nicely in a 7' x 7' x 8' storage pod with a decent amount of room to spare.

At least until I add a couch and a dining room set.