This is kind of a dangerous train of thought for me, and I often get myself into trouble when I start to ask such questions. You may recall that I have blogged in the past about my struggle with 'stuff'. I used to have a real problem with it. ("Hi. My name is Andrea. I'm a stuff-a-holic.") Like most recovering addicts, I have becoming something of a zealot, much to the chagrin of those around me. I don't try to be preachy, but sometimes I can't help it.
Over the last two years our little nuclear family has been through a lot - much of it spiritual, and perhaps a tad cerebral as well. The long and short of it is that we have been searching for who we are, and what we're supposed to be doing in life. In that process, we've seriously considered everything from building on to our home in order to have more space available, to packing up and moving to a tiny island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. (I'm still praying earnestly for that last one to come true, by the way. Just a heads up.) Anyway, in the process of examining every possibility, God has asked us to lay everything at His feet, and hold nothing sacred but Him. This is why I'm wondering how many nightgowns we really need.
I have never felt more rich in my life than I do right now - when I have the least amount of items that I've ever owned. I gotta tell you - it's a good feeling. My home is less cluttered. My schedule is less cluttered. My heart and mind are less cluttered. And, my relationships (including with God) are less cluttered than they ever have been before. The open space that was created when I got rid of so much junk has since been filled with wonderful things. It's enough to make me want to rent a dumpster, open wide the doors and windows, and chuck all of the rest out, in order that I might be emptied to be even more filled with God's goodness.
But, that's the problem. I honestly don't know where to stop. I wasn't being rhetorical in asking how many jammies a person needs. I think that, as a modern, middle-class American, I am not well equipped to make a decision like that. Here's just one reason why: according to an article by MP Dunleavy of MSN, one in ten households in this country rent storage space - almost double what it was 15 years ago. Considering that houses now have, on average, 60% more square footage than they did just a generation or so ago, and the number of people living in those houses has gone down 20%, you have to wonder what they're all squirreling away. I bet at least some of it is PJs.
Want another reason why I'm ill-equipped to make decisions about physical possessions? I recently came across a blogpost about a beautiful and challenging book by photographer James Mollison, entitled Where Children Sleep. In it, there is no spin. No storytelling. No statistics or guilt trips about modern American life. Instead, there are only pictures. On one side of each page is a photo of a child from somewhere around the world. On the other side, a picture of where that child sleeps. What stunned me was the near-absence of personal belongings in most other countries, and the overwhelming glut of it in pictures from the United States. Even (or - more accurately - especially) in images of children in the U.S. who are living in abject poverty, there is still stuff everywhere. It is clear that most modern Americans are well 'equipped' for life, but are we better off for it?
So, what's a gal to do? I suppose, in trying to decide how much stuff our family really needs, I could follow Madison Avenue's suggestion and buy even more clothing, in even more luxuriant styles, and with even bigger price tags attached. But, I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed for us. On the other hand, we could divest ourselves of all of our worldly goods, though the winters in Iowa do get a bit cold to be without any pajamas at all. Plus, a decision like that would only further my reputation as a zealous ex-addict.
Instead, I'm trying to take a more balanced approach. We clean out rooms and closets frequently - considering the difference between 'need' and 'want' as we do so. We weigh the pros and cons of each item we own or buy, including how much time and energy it will take to properly care for it. We remind each other (and ourselves) that we don't have any responsibility to our inanimate possessions, and that we only want to surround ourselves with things that truly bless and enrich our lives. We pray. We ponder. And, I blog - in hopes that you (my faithful readers) will know exactly how many sets of PJs (or anything else, for that matter) each of us really needs. I do sincerely want to hear your opinions and thoughts. And, if you could get back to me before the next laundry day, I'd appreciate it even more.
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