Getting and getting rid

I got rid of some stuff a couple weeks ago. Clothes, old shoes, a few other things. Now that all that stuff is gone, I can’t remember why I ever had it. I can’t even remember what it all was. If you asked me to list the contents of the four bags I took to Value Village, I probably couldn’t come up with even half of them. 

 A lot of the stuff we have is like that—stuff we wouldn’t even notice being gone. Yet most of us have a hard time getting rid of it. Even if it’s something we haven’t used in a year and don’t plan to use anytime soon (or something that never had a use to begin with), we convince ourselves we will someday regret getting rid of it. When we come to the moment of truth—throwing it away, giving it away, selling it on Craigslist—we falter.

We get anxious thinking about discarding possessions. It feels like throwing away money. Even if we plan to sell these things, we worry that we’ll get a disappointing price. Easier to just hang on to them and lie that they still have value in our lives. Easier to avoid the distressing feeling that when we toss something, it’s forever. 

Getting rid of stuff is emotionally fraught. But being rid of it is easy. I now feel nothing about the stuff I donated recently—it wasn’t a meaningful part of my routine. I don’t go absentmindedly reaching for that stuff and find the shelf empty. Not having it is a non-experience. 

There’s a similar contrast between getting and having. Getting something, either a gift or a purchase, is a thrill. Having it is boring. Of all the things in your home you were excited to get, how many do you actually find fun to own? The answer—for me—is only a handful. If you took my bike or my computer, I would notice within a day. If you took my kettlebells, I would notice within a week. But if you took my copy of On the Road—which I didn’t like that much and never plan to reread—I might not notice ever. For stuff like this, owning and not owning are equal states.

Getting and getting rid—charged with feeling. Having and not having—as humdrum as flossing. We love hellos and hate goodbyes. But the stuff in between and after, we barely notice.