Stuff will suffocate the love in your life.
I’ve moved half of my house out of my house over the past week…it’s not fun. There’s drawers full of random things, and dirt and dust and mouse poop…and clothes and books I didn’t know I had.
But, then, moving in my new roommate/lover’s things, that’s fun. New furniture, new taste, fresh air.
It’s like what Trungpa Rinpoche talks about, with the cocoon. Clearing out old life and karma is hard. Bringing in new is a lot of work, but fun and new and fresh.
It’s a cliche, of course, but cliches are often repeated again and again because they strike a chord; because they’re true: stuff doesn’t make me happy. Stuff doesn’t make you happy. Things don’t equal contentment. Possessions possess their owner.
What makes us happy? Things of quality and taste that we need. And…little else.
old tee shirts I love but never wear become napkins: