Possessions that posses us

Most everyone I know collects or has collected something. I think this is a normal, healthy part of life.  The desire to own the complete set of this, that or the other thing is something that passes the time and puts a smile on our faces. But when does the collection of something move into an obsession? And when does the obsession become more of a compulsion? And when does a beautiful collection turn into something horribly wrong?

I don’t know the answers to any of these questions any more than anyone else really does. What I do know is that sometimes our possessions can turn into something more. Our “things” can begin to posses us (and I don’t mean in a spooky, supernatural kind of way). Our “things” can start becoming the masters of the way our world runs instead of the other way around. I have seen first-hand how collections and sentimental objects can get out of hand. I have known and lived with people who collected beyond the bounds of what would be considered just a collection. Sometimes these collections are beautiful artistic works that cause us to gaze at them. And other times these collections become immense piles of rubbish that we can’t look away from.

I admit to having some areas of clutter in my house. However, I am currently working towards selling or giving away or disposing of the possessions that are possessing me and living in my house. I want those things to be removed that no longer have any meaning to me or have outlived their usefullness. The “things” that feel like they have started to take over need to be crushed into oblivion!

The topic of this post came up after watching a documentary about hoarding: link. You see four different people and how the things that they hoard. I identified most with the man who collected books and I thought he was fairly normal (I’m not sure what that says about me). The documentary reminded me of a news story about a woman who suffocated in her own house under a pile of clutter.

Found on Boing Boing.

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