I have surrendered alcohol, drugs, food and it’s myriad forms of addiction (consuming it, not consuming it, shapes, colors, obsessions, diets—healthy and other) and always in the background are things. Yes, addiction to things. As a kid it was toys, books and clothes. As a teen it was books, make up and clothes, as an adult: books, artwork and yes, clothes.
When you start making a home or homes the number of possible things expands. I can tell myself I have become more reasonable about clothes but find myself “collecting” table linens, serving dishes, candles, bedding. Then I say, “OK, your home is nice enough and let that go and see the lure of shoes—“Well, they are comfort shoes after all” I rationalize.
But really—aren’t all clothes comfort? We are comforting our souls if not our actual physical bodies.
I write myself little notes when I have an insight or idea and then I tuck them away where I might come across them when needed. Here is one I wrote to myself more than a year ago and it is dead on perfect—and new—for where I am today. My little card says:
“I don’t have to own things just because they are beautiful or appealing. I can see them, appreciate them and leave them where they are. Owning something decreases its value and then I just want something else; then I just want the next thing.”