Does Stuff Help Make The Home?

What is it with stuff? Why, how, and when do we become so attached to it? In theory, shouldn’t we be ok without it? Shouldn’t home be anywhere we present ourselves – mind, body and soul? Or is it more than that.

Some people do well without stuff. I’m not sure I’m one of them. I could probably do without if I needed to, but it wouldn't be my first choice.

I spent time unpacking and hanging prints on my walls this past weekend. I smiled as I unwrapped each one, and tried to find a place for it. I experienced the same thing when I unpacked my books a few weeks ago. The moment they went up on my shelf, I breathed a sigh of relief. My apartment became more of a home.

Maybe the key lies in the intent behind our stuff, in how we choose it. This time when I moved, I tried to consciously pack only the items I wanted to keep vs. dumping everything in blindly. What I ended up with are things that really matter to me. For the first time, I can honestly say that most of what I have either a) serves a purpose, b) has sentimental value, or c) brings me joy.

My stuff reflects me. Not to confuse this with my stuff being me – it simply reflects what I love, what makes me happy. It carries energy. It brings me comfort. Maybe someday my ability to detach from it will be put to the test, but for now, it helps make my place a home.