In the short two hours of sleep that I was able to grab last night, I dreamt that I had moved, but I had kept the dogs and most of my junk in the old house. When I went back into the old house after about 6 months, I was first of all appalled that I had left my dogs in such squalor for so long, without food or walks or attention or love. Their eyes were crusted over and they were hungry, and when I brought them out for a walk, they squinted in the harsh daylight, not having seen it for months.
Whatever, those dogs are so loved it’s ridiculous! I’m not even going to feel guilty for dream-abandoning them, although in my dream I was wracked with guilt.
However, the second part of my dream focused on all of the junk that I had left behind. I was meant to be going back to clean the place out, but looking around me at the piles of trash and clothes and books and…stuff, I was overwhelmed. I left the house for some air and returned, and miraculously someone had come in and just thrown everything away. Every little thing- the place was wiped clean.
I have never felt such relief from a dream. I looked around the place and thought, “Awesome.” I tried to think of something that I might have wanted that got accidentally trashed, but nothing was so important that I needed it.
This is exactly what I need someone to do in real life- just come in and get rid of some of the burden of having all of this stuff. I look around sometimes and just seeing things shoved in corners or piled on my desk gives me this horrible claustrophobic feeling, as if I am drowning in stuff, stuff which has no proper place to be stored and yet I feel I can’t get rid of for the sentimental value.
And it’s not even like I have aquired a lot of stuff for my age. I know friends back in the States have houses full of stuff that they have acquired by now, including children and all of the mini-stuff that comes with that lifestyle. So by comparison, the things that I have in my small Dutch apartment are fairly inconsequential. But the amount of things still makes me feel heavy, trapped, and cluttered.
I am slowly but surely working towards just trashing everything. I think it will be quite a nice feeling to finally unload that literal baggage, finally free of piles of stuff that I don’t need, don’t want, and can definitely live without. I’m not completely there yet, but nearly. Nearly.
And you know another thing? The more you write ‘stuff’ the more ridiculous it looks.