No, this is not the home in my tale. |
I was given a tour of the rest of the home, and the sparseness continued to shock my senses. Even the children's rooms were mostly bare. The beds were neatly made, and a few stuffed bears decorated the walls. Where was the mess? Where were the family pictures? I know the temperature was set low, but I felt chilled more from the emptiness I continued to see. Why did it shock me so? Because I had seen the downstairs first. That was an entirely different and opposite scene.
I was being given an extra microwave that the family had, as mine had died a week before. (Don't run a microwave for 10 minutes with nothing in it - my son accidentally found this out when he attempted to use the microwave for a timer). The downstairs of this house looked almost like a scene out of "Hoarders". Things were piled (fairly organized) to the ceiling in most corners and along most walls. I knew that the family had rental properties, and since many of the items appeared to be spare parts and housewares, I assumed that the downstairs is where they stored their supplies for their rentals. So, compared to the downstairs, yes, the bare upstairs was jolting.
My brain rarely rests. I got to thinking of my own home. My "mess", as I call it. It is really difficult for me to keep my place tidy as a single, working mom of two young children. I think it was even worse when I was a full time student. I believe in letting kids play and not barking at them to pick up their toys every five minutes. That was something my ex-husband was always fond of doing and always drove me crazy. I remember what it is like to be a kid. You want to get your toys out and play, play, play! If you put one thing away before getting out another, then how can you suddenly invent new games and imaginary worlds because you suddenly realize that you can place with these mismatched toys together? Granted, I do wish they would pick up better at the end of the night.
Nope, not my home either, although it is a fairly accurate representation much of the time. |
I wouldn't mind having this... |
This whole thought process gives me pause. You can read someone's writing or view someone's art and know their deepest thoughts and fears. Why wouldn't our homes reflect our souls in the same way? It seems to me that it makes perfect sense that our homes would reflect something about who we are. I haven't done any research yet to see if I am on to something (therapists and psychologists are probably rolling their eyes, saying, "duh" at me right now, if reading this). I intend to do the research. Why? I like to understand people. I need to be able to understand people better to be effective in interfaith relations.
Until I get that research done, I am curious to ask you, my reader, to lend your voice to this theory of mine. Do you see what I see? Does your home truly reflect you? What about family or friends (its usually to see these things in others, rather than ourselves)? How tidy is your home?
Some links to share (I haven't actually read these yet, but I intend to!):
- What Our Stuff Says about Us
- Your home is your castle - so, what if it's a dump?
- WHAT OUR HOUSES SAY ABOUT US
I look forward to all of your comments!!
Very interesting, good writing - my house has certain rooms that are always perfectly tidy and then others that are definitely lived in. Unlike my brother/sister I do not feel the need to keep every item just because I bought it or it was given to me. I love to send things to the Goodwill store, throw things away and give things I have too many of to friends/family - like you.....so I have contributed to your plethora of belongings, lol
ReplyDeleteMy mother was so afraid that she would lose some random piece of paper, letter, bill, mail.....that she would pile them all in the middle of her kitchen table, if she
needed anything, she knew exactky where to find it. My brother's home office holds everything he has accumulated in life, especially from his over 40 years working at GM.....piles of coins waiting to be put in the electric coin bank, especially his miniature GM cars, awards, books he will never actually read but seemed to need to own, scrap pieces of paper that probably hold a wealth of "unimportant " information - but kept just in case some year, some day, some moment he might have the need for 25 year old data.......these items are all treaures to him, his little cluttered space in this cluttered world. They are just things, important to no one but priceless treasures to my brother. My sister has
the same problem, once I asked her why she carried so much stuff in her purse, I thumbed thru it and found she had reoeipts, bills from 10 years previous, cough drops that were long past having any affect on a cough, she said she might need any/all of these items, and was hesitant to throw them away. My mother's kitchen table, my brother's desk, my sister's purse, three peas in a pod. Thankfully I missed that gene, content to shred, and toss things in the garbage
or give them away, as I said "thankfully". The end *~*
I've inherited the clutter gene from my mom, for sure. We (mom and I) always wonder in amazement at your ability to part with your "stuff". Unlike my mom, I do get a bug to purge on occasion. When I do, I go through all my boxes and files, considering each item before making the decision to keep it or let it go. If I have no memory of receiving it, or it no longer holds any special meaning to me, I release it to the "goodwill" pile, or the trash, depending on what it is and it's condition. Admittedly, those things which may have a future use - fabric, buttons, and the like - stay... just in case. I'm not a seamstress by any means, but I am learning, so I may have use for these things one day, and I'll be darned if I am going to have to go out and buy new fabric when I have some I can just hang on to.
DeleteI know some of my attachment to things is due to being fairly poor at the moment. It's hard for me to rationalize throwing things that may have future use away when I can't afford to replace them. I know that is not my mom's excuse... All of the rest of our clinging on to clutter is as neurotic as we are. I know that I still cling to the internal clutter of my past, although I am working through therapy to learn to let go. We all have our houses to maintain, internal and external.
I'm know that eventually the time will come where I will be rummaging through all of my mothers things, trying to figure out why she kept them, but also reminiscing my own memories of her and them... and feel the urge to hang on to them as if they are part of her. I've begged my parents to hold an auction long before that times comes so I don't have that very issue to deal with... but certain things, I hope will never sell, so that I can put them in my own home... to remember.