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I have often thought how wonderful it would be to carry everything you own with you, in two big bags, wherever you go. I would love to whittle my worldly possessions down to the size of airport baggage.

And here's why.

When you move as often as I do, your stuff becomes a burden. You find yourself packing boxes, once again, and you can't remember why you've decided to cart a huge selection of old video game manuals through three different houses. The trinkets that you keep for nostalgia's sake wear and fade. Things lose their meaning. Your back hurts from carrying so many fucking boxes.

So you start to leave things behind. And as you discard items, you feel lighter and lighter, like you aren't quite anchored to one spot anymore. You feel a thrilling sensation of inconsequentiality. It doesn't matter if you've had those books since you were five: they're just books. You give them away, of course, because Watership Down is a sick read for any bunny-loving boy or girl. But you let them go, your responsibility lifted. You let the Playstation 2 go and the TV go and the movies go and the clothes you keep because naked is illegal and... And you start to float with the giddiness of suddenly realizing that

You don't need anything.

Now this is mostly bullshit, of course. I am a bad preacher. I have needs too. I am in love with my computer. I could never abandon the Silver God to fly off into a clear blue sky of idealistic material independence. I still operate within the Evil Conspiracy of Things. But

but

You can always own less.

This sounds so stupid, right? Played out and wiggity-whack trite advice, spewed out of countless mouths and fingertips ever since socialism. "Why do you want so much shit?" There was even a Papa Roach song about this. I feel redundant, the latest in a long series of echoes. This is a lame Fight Club diatribe. Still, you don't have to blow up credit unions and make soap in a filthy shanty. You don't even have to give up the stuff you love. Just give up the stuff you don't love: the stuff you accumulate and never use. Think portability. Think burdenless.

I see people stapled to Ontarian suburbia, in part because they have a job and a comfortable, safe life but also because all their stuff is there. And they talk about leaving and they talk about making something more, but in the end they stay because there are car payments to make and they just got a brand-new projection TV. They have bookshelves and blinds. The more they buy to distract themselves from the fact that they're still there, the more weight they're adding to the anchor.

I've noticed that some people genuinely base their life's successes around how much they own. And that's cool, because everyone has to live for something. Neato gadgets and fancy cars aren't an entirely bad way to go. It's better than being a Scientologist.

However, if you've never really thought that your grand ambitions were material but you somehow got distracted along the way and now you're stuck, try discarding the possessions you don't really need. Whittle yourself down. Be harsh but realistic. It's hard, really fucking hard, and you might need some external motivation (such as a severe dislike for carrying heavy boxes). But you'll feel lighter in the end. I swear. 9 out of 10 Tyler Durdens agree.

I think that if you can fit your entire life into two suitcases, you can do anything.

Posted by Chris at 12:02 AM >> Commentations (2)