I pruned my closet last week. My middle name is “Declutter.” I love getting rid of stuff.

My goal is to be a monk—without the weird parts like obedience, poverty, celibacy, and tonsures. My aim is simple: simplicity—the fewest things possible without suffering discomfort or inconvenience, and without precipitating a divorce.

(My wife, Paula, likes our stuff. She’s no nun.)

I’m a minimalist, not a materialist, except when it comes to books. I love books. I own hundreds. But let’s not get hung up there. That’s honorable materialism.

Every year I downsize. And every year gremlins upsize while I’m sleeping. My middle name should be “Sisyphus.”

Stuff metastasizes into every room, cupboard, and drawer. The only cure is death. At last, we leave it all behind.

But don’t be too sure.

Years ago some friends moved to town with a truck and two cars—stuff on the roofs, stuff in the back seats, stuff in the trunks—and, of course, stuff in a U-Haul trailer.

(They once were hippies living out of backpacks.)

The first two hours moving stuff in were jolly fun. WHEE. The next two hours were laborious. UGH. The last two hours were HELL.

That’s when I formulated a counterintuitive view of the afterlife:

YOU TAKE IT ALL WITH YOU. 

If you go to heaven, you’re done moving. If you go to hell, you move every year. For eternity.

(Yes, there are U-Hauls in hell.)

DOWNSIZE NOW! DOWNSIZE FOREVER!

I recommend backpacks. You know, just in case.

Among my pile of clothes bound for Goodwill was a tailor-made suit I purchased for my daughter’s wedding in 2010. By then I had officiated 200 or so weddings. This one was different. I walked my beautiful daughter down the aisle in my handsome three-piece suit.

After that, I wore that suit for three weddings and a funeral, hung it up, and reverted to my Steve Jobs look. No more suit and tie.

That suit hung untouched for 14 years. I thought it could be my burial suit and mentioned that to Paula.

You won’t need it, she said flatly. You’ll be cremated.

I’m all for cremation. But I was just a wee bit startled that I’d not been included in that particular decision.

I’m totally cool with it. I imagine my elegant urn on an empty bookshelf.

Total simplicity.

At last. 

_______________________

Share this post with a friend. Use links below.

Not a subscriber? Subscribe here. Free. No ads. Unsubscribe anytime.