Originally published in the Men's Health MVP Network, 2015.
Who hasn't dreamt of taking all their stuff (when it's yours, it's stuff; when it's someone else's it's shit) and making a big bonfire out of it and living a simple life, tending sheep and subsistence farming somewhere off the grid, only reading Plato, The Bible, and Shakespeare in a log cabin of fallen timbers harvested on long hikes through anonymous woods.
Perhaps my fantasy is a bit specific, but again, if you haven't had one of those days when you can't find your keys, and they're not under the purple kangaroo like usual, and you trip over your rollerblades on your way to the junk drawer where your girlfriend sometimes dumps them and you're up to your neck in loose staples, cable ties, and dead AAA batteries, and for a second you imagine what life would be like with just a few essentials for comfort and survival, then you're probably a pack-rat. Call me and we'll make a reality show about the childhood issues that caused you to never be able to let go of anything including 20 year old birthday cards from distant cousins.
But once again, as Bono astutely noted, all is quiet on New Year's Day, and one is left to wonder — what chain of events lead me to this present pit of despair, and what chair-lift of self-improvement will convey me from it, to a new summit of self-actualization?
Well, I don't know you Jack, so I can't answer that question. Maybe you've been a bastard your whole life? Maybe you have no self-control over your insanely stupid impulses? Maybe your priorities are all out of whack and you don't know how to appreciate the things and people in your life that make it worth living, instead opting for self-tanner and bottle service. The first step out of that hole is to just set the shovel aside and look up.
For me, this is the year of throwing out a bunch of old shit — the sloughing off of that useless armor in a world of drone strikes. I'm talking literally and figuratively. Does anyone want a 12-string with a busted fretboard? Or hundreds of photographs all of which have been digitized and thus rendered redundant? How about my DVD collection, everything in my night table, and all my books on knife-fighting?
My friend Terry deletes everyone from his phone whom he hasn't spoken with in two weeks. Although extreme, I've always respected him for that. It's sort of in line with what I'm saying here, though a bit over the top, but the fact remains: people can be clutter. Not all 1500 of your Facebook friends really care about you. Not everything in your newsfeed is worth reading. Not every text worth sending.
You see where I'm going here. The list goes on. And once you start, you get excited. You feel the weight lifting. You don't realize how much all this excess weighs on your spirit. Give some away for bonus points. Give to people who can use it more than you. Giving has been scientifically proven to improve health. It literally feels good.
And now, some ancient Chinese wisdom: It's the emptiness inside the vase that makes it useful. Lao Tzu may have been several people, but who(m)ever (t)he(y) was (were) — they sure knew what the hell they were talking about. Disregard for the moment that the Chinese are notorious packrats... wait a sec... reality show!