Plain and Cluttered: How much stuff is too much stuff?

A few weeks ago I visited a new friend's home. I got to see her bedroom, and what a lovely bedroom it was. Everything was white, save the blue, black, or gray accents that dotted the room. I felt I could breathe easy in that room. Then I took a look at her bookcase only to be struck with jealousy. "Oh," I thought, "She only owns the books that mean something to her." Immediately inspired I decided that it was about time I get rid of my clutter.

The very next day I attacked my bedroom. Well, actually. I wasn't attacking it. I was...healing it. The days and weeks before I'd been attacking it with my carelessness so...

The very next day I brushed away my bedroom's dusty wounds. I refolded clean clothes that had become a new rug over the rug I already had. I couldn't make my bed because it had to serve as a filing cabinet. There's a lot of stuff I have that may or may not be needed! Hey. Getting rid of things takes time. I mean, what if I accidentally throw out my social security card because it's stuffed in an old journal I didn't check?! HORROR!

Before I could touch my books I had to file away important documents, including sentimental trinkets, cards, etc. I picked out more clothes to donate. Then it was time to tackle the bookshelves and their books. And the floor's books. And the closet's books. Books, books, books. Everywhere. I don't even know why I own all these. Some of these books deserve to be burned.

I know. I'm a heathen. But seriously.

I was able to get rid of three trash bags worth of clothes, and four boxes worth of books. (I donated most of my children's literature and ESL textbooks to an English teacher I know.)

I looked at my books and clothes and was disgusted. Ah! I have so much crap.

Not that Anna Karenina is crap. It isn't! I love all things Tolstoy, but really, I haven't touched that book since I bought it. I would've been much better off borrowing it from the library or a friend. I don't need to own all the books recommended to me.

Yeah, I still want to have a personal library, but as of now, I've neither the space nor income to merit starting a library now.

All my donation bags are still sitting in the back of my trunk, waiting to be donated. My bedroom still isn't entirely clean.

I told my friend (with the inspirational bedroom) about my cleaning adventure. She thought it was a great idea. How she'd done that a couple years back. Then she asked this: "How is it that I still have to buy new [things, like clothing]? How is it that I still have to get rid of stuff after already getting rid of stuff?"

I immediately thought of third world countries, well, not just third world countries. Just as every third world country may entertain first world conditions, every first world country ignores its third world citizens.

How much stuff is too much stuff?

In spite of third world conditions some of those families are much happier with little to nothing than people who live in penthouses. They don't seem to have to hashtag their first world problems.

Now, I'm a bit of a pack rat. As much as I admired my new friend's simple, plain bedroom I also admire my old friend's thrift shop bedroom. When I walk into my old friend's bedroom I feel as though I find new treasures every time. I'm a lot like my old friend: sentiment overwhelms us. But I'm a lot like my new friend: clutter is still clutter.What sentiments do I still want? Besides, some sentiments were set on fire (by those with whom I share the sentiment) before I could even decide whether or not I should maintain sentimental feelings.

Sentiment has no practical value. But practicality without sentiment is still cold enough to burn.

There are still things I want to buy that I'll probably donate again, so...why do I want to buy them?

"How is it that I still have to get rid of stuff after already getting rid of stuff?"

I am in constant excess. I cannot possibly have so much attachment to so much material that I couldn't remember owning anyway.

No, I'm not entering survival mode. I am aware that I should be grateful I don't have to survive; I should be grateful I can thrive. But I must also live as though I am aware of others.

I ain't keepin' up wit' no Joneses...or Kardashians for that matter.

I don't know how much stuff is too much stuff, but I think it's a telltale sign to get rid of it if I haven't used it in a while. Two years of uselessness is a telltale sign.

Okay. I'm going to finish cleaning out my room now! It'll be Pinterest worthy, I think :D

"I'm all ears!"

Communicating is hard work. Of course, all things that require reciprocity are hard work because everyone knows, from experience, that communication is listening and feedback. I can listen all I want, but you can only talk so much until you'd rather talk to a wall than to me. I can talk all I want, but you're not a wall!- you've got opinions too!

But this isn't always the case, sometimes people have different ways of communicating, and I don't mean that  one person prefers cuddling over home-cooked meals. No, really, I mean, consider this, my fellow geeks: does it bother you that some people will prefer the movie, as opposed to the book upon which its based?

I know that drives me mad.

Although I've learned that movies and books are two different medias. I will almost always prefer the media of a book, but a near-perfect example of appreciating both the movie and the book is Life of Pi. 

When the first advertisements for Life of Pi: The Movie were out I knew that regardless of its success or failure I was going to like this movie. Life of Pi: The Book is intensely descriptive, heavy with dialogue, and purposefully challenging. Life of Pi: The Book works for the very same reason Anna Karenina by Tolstoy works, for the same reason The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien works: because books can be of any length! 

But movies are generally limited to 1 1/2 to 3 hours in length. Any longer and most of the audience has lost interest and/or fallen asleep. (But trust me, I could watch a movie for that length of time and be fine.)

However much it bothers me that people can't appreciate the book-version as much as the movie-version, should it really bother me?

Even within the same medias, writers, directors, actors, etc. want to communicate with people outside their usual social group.

Christians/The religious want to convert non-believers/atheists.

Non-believers/atheists want to educate Christians/the religious.

Scientists want to instill sciencey-stuff into thespians.

Thespians want to convey powerful emotions to their audiences.

But, generally, Christians only reach Christians. Atheists only reach atheists. Scientists only reach scientists. Thespians only reach thespians. 

When a Christian, or an atheist, or a scientist, or a thespian writes a book, hoping that the book will help outsiders understand it doesn't usually work. I've worked at a bookstore long enough to know that people who are interested in business go only to the business section and nowhere else. I'd be hard-pressed to convince a customer interested in graphic novels to attempt a perusal into the local history section--frankly, it's just not what they're looking for.

I'd even be more hard-pressed to convince someone to read the Harry Potter books, if they only want to watch Harry Potter.

But frankly, some people are just more visual. 

So...how do writers communicate with movie-goers?

How do directors communicate with bookworms?

How do musicians communicate with scientists?

How do Christians communicate with the non-religious?

I don't know! 

But I'll try and be all ears for you!

I want to make more people read, but I'm only talking to people who already read. How can I communicate with non-readers?

Turn Life of Pi into a movie.

Sha-bam.