living simply

For my last birthday, my son and daughter-in-law gave me a gift certificate good for a “behind the scenes encounter” our local zoo. There were lots of different options to choose from (some easily ruled out, as I have no desire to get up close and personal with large reptiles.) I chose the Penguin Encounter, and last Tuesday, my husband and I joined a small group of people who toured of the zoo’s penguin facilities. We learned how the penguins are cared for at the zoo as well as how they live in the wild. We also learned about the zoo’s efforts to preserve the natural habitat of penguins, and finally, we were actually able to “meet” a couple penguins.

We were instructed to sit quietly on the floor in a large circle. Then the keeper led in two penguins, explaining that these two were well socialized and accustomed to walking around in the building. We were allowed to gently touch their back or chest with one hand if they came close enough that we could touch them without leaning forward or extending our arm. Sure enough, one of them waddled right up to me, and now I can honestly say that I have “petted a penguin.”

I really appreciated this gift, and not just because it was so fun to interact with a real penguin. It also served as a timely reminder that what I value most in life has nothing to do with material objects and everything to do with how I get to spend my time. Hanging out with my grandson, going on a trip to somewhere I’ve never been before, having dinner with good friends, even helping someone in need: these are the experiences that make life so interesting and that create memories that stay with us forever.

Like most people, I have a tendency to acquire far more things than I actually need, and even a bit more than I truly want. I think it’s partly a result of human nature, and partly a result of the consumer-driven society I happen to live in. It’s so easy for us to believe we want or need something, especially if we happen to notice that lots of other people really want it too. (Remember Beanie Babies?) Sometimes it seems as if unreasonable greed lives just below the surface in most of us, just waiting for something to trigger it.

But the truth of the matter is I have almost everything I need or want, and there really is very little reason to bring even more stuff into my modestly-sized house. Which is something I’ll need to remember as I help my mom sort through all the things she’s accumulated but has no room for as she downsizes into her new apartment next month. There’s going to be a whole lot of stuff that needs a new home, and I want to make sure that very little of it finds its way over to my house.

Because when you come right down to it, stuff is just that: stuff. And accumulating too much of it just makes our houses too crowded and our lives too complicated. Far better to spend our time and energies doing the things that make us happy. And who knows? Sometimes that might even mean petting a penguin…..

I admit to being one those people who still believes in giving her house a good, old-fashioned spring cleaning each year. I wash windows, paint baseboards, clean out junk drawers, etc., and then turn my attention to my closet. Cleaning my closet means packing away my winter clothes, and then hauling the bins filled with my spring and summer clothes out of the basement to place in my closet and dresser. As I do, I try to look at each piece of clothing and make sure it’s something I actually still want, and the clothes that don’t make the cut get placed in the donation bag. In theory, it’s a rather efficient system designed to keep only the clothes that fit, are flattering, and that I actually intend to wear. And the key words in that sentence are “in theory.”

Because the reality is that I have lots of clothes in my closet that I don’t need or particularly want. It’s completely against my character, as in all other areas of my life, I have no problems getting rid of things. I can fill a donation bag, or even a trash bag, in record time and without a second thought. But for some reason, I’m still hanging onto that pink t-shirt I bought at the outlet mall four years ago, which I’ve worn exactly once. I also still have the tank top I wore to a neighborhood reunion in 2005, and the sweater that I am wearing in the photo of my husband’s 43rd birthday dinner is still in my dresser. My husband will be 60 this year.

It’s not that I have these clothes stashed away, where they can be “out of sight and out of mind.” (That’s how we managed to keep my husband’s green leisure suit for the first ten years of our marriage. It was in a bag of his old clothes which he moved from house to house, but never actually opened.) My closet is a bit small, so I store out-of-season clothes in bins and I actually go through them each spring and fall, and I do designate several items each time for the Goodwill. Yet I still manage to keep far too many tops, sweaters and dresses that I don’t wear, or at least that I haven’t worn in the past decade.

Maybe the problem is that I didn’t have very many clothes during my teenage years, when I was very self-conscious about such things. Or maybe it’s that I believe in reusing and recycling things whenever possible, as I am all too aware of the growing problem of too much trash in our local landfills. But I have to remember that clothes can’t be kept forever, even if I am still wearing them. I should have figured that out after the time I wore a pair of jeans to the point where they were so frayed that they ripped right up the back seam. I didn’t know the rip was there until my son pointed it out at dinner time, and I had worn those jeans all day.

I just have to let go of the idea that I may actually want to wear that black velvet jacket to a party someday, or that I am going to look at a blouse that I haven’t worn in six years and suddenly think, “That’s exactly what I want to wear today!” It seems that my wardrobe is my personal and final hurdle in my goal to living a simplified and clutter-free existence. And it’s way past time to clean out that closet, once and for all.