Stuff

Stuff. We all have it. Some people have lots of stuff; others have very little stuff. Gandhi didn't have much at all. But then, he was weird. Jesus didn't have much either. But he was weird too.

I've been thinking a lot about stuff lately because, as you know, we have been preparing to move for several months—and we've had to think about how much stuff to move with us. We moved last week. In our little apartment we have very little stuff because the moving van hasn't come yet; it's scheduled to be at our apartment tomorrow with our stuff. But first it will stop at a storage unit to deposit 5000 pounds of our stuff that we can't get in our little apartment; then it will proceed to our little place and deposit another 4000 pounds of stuff that we will have to put somewhere.

I just an article in the paper by Deneen Brown who writes for The Washington Post. She reports on a new book out by Annie Leonard called The Story of Stuff. Leonard spent ten years traveling to 40 countries, visiting hundreds of factories, tracking where our stuff is made and where it is dumped, "witnessing first-hand the horrendous impacts of both over- and under-consumption around the world."

As she looks at the big picture she says, "We are cutting and mining and hauling and trashing the place so fast that we're undermining the planet's very ability for people to live here."

Many people are becoming concerned about our buying and consuming habits in America. Mary Harding, 78, a retired nurse, wears other people's stuff. She stands up at a talk Leonard is giving and says, "This sweater, these pants, my shoes, and my underwear are my own. I buy as much from a thrift store. I feel for people who believe they are what they wear, that having designer labels makes them special."

We all know that we don't need as much stuff as we buy. But we don't stop buying it. Either because we are not strong enough to ignore peer pressure; or because we are simply addicted to stuff. Don't talk to me about drug addiction or alcoholism or any other addiction until you (and I) can admit the power stuff has over us. Stuff is sticky. We're stuck on stuff. We're addicts. We need help!

But, as I said, our stuff is coming tomorrow in the moving van. We have down-sized, no doubt about it. But we still have 9000 pounds of stuff that we can't even stuff into our little apartment.

That little weird guy—Gandhi—looks at us with disgust. And that other little weird guy—Jesus—has a tear in his eye as he gazes down upon us. He had some things to say about stuff. We've all read it. But we don't care.