Knee Deep in the Hooah!

…. then clutter multiplies. We have moved twice this year already, and we still have junk. You know what I am talking about, right. That “stuff.” The stuff you shift from place to place, and you buy new spiffy plastic boxes with cool snap down lids for, and then you shift the boxes from place to place. Then you move the boxes from house to house. Each time glancing in the box long enough to think “I forgot we had that! I need to remember it for later.” Yeah, who are you fooling lady?! Why do we do this to ourselves?

The other day I mentioned a comparison I had made in an undergrad philosophy paper between the Myth of Sisyphus and laundry. For those who may not remember Sisyphus, he was the character in Greek Mythology who was condemned by the gods to roll a boulder up a mountain, and immediately the boulder would roll back down. Sisyphus was condemned to repeat the same meaningless task over, and over for all eternity. Kafka and Camus are two modern philosophers who authored the most known retelling of the myth. The rendition that I like most of the two authors has to be Camus because he gave Sisyphus a moment of pause. A single moment of the feeling of happiness and contentment in what he had done. It was only a split second, and then the boulder would roll down the mountain again.

Why do I get the very strange and scared feeling that I am going to become very well acquainted with the myth of Sisyphus again, and it will not just be through reading a philosophy book or doing laundry? PCSing is not a boulder up a mountain, right? Or is it? I am beginning to realize that each stop is really just a resting place while you plan and stage the next move. So essentially each place we live for the next several years is nothing more than the top of that mountain. I will have a moment, just a split second, to look around me and think “well done Claire!” and the next set of orders will come and I will watch my boulder bound down the hill faster than the speed of light. Oh well at least I will have my moment. My single, tiny moment where my home will feel like home, and I will feel settled. Cruel, isn’t it? I guess as long as I am behind the boulder and not on top of it or in front of it as it rolls, then I will be just fine!

The funny part is, comparatively speaking, we are close to being minimalists. We really do not buy a lot of stuff, but somehow we just have it. We don’t steal it, borrow it or take it, so it must be multiplying. I think that when people see that you don’t have a lot they assume that it’s because you can’t afford anything. Well, that may be partially true, more so now that we are on a much lower income than previously earned, but really it was because neither of us like knick-knacks, collections, or stuff. I think the only thing that I have collected lately are baskets. I love baskets, but they are functional so they don’t count as “stuff.” They are “useful things.” See the difference? You can’t take a meal to a sick friend inside your collection of funky hats fashioned from old beer cans, but you can put it in a pretty basket and make quite an impression!

I am getting ready to go back downstairs and start the next phase of “Operation Pack This Throw That.” If you don’t hear from me within a few days, please send a care package. Low carb, high protein and if this heat wave does not subside, please don’t send Jolly Ranchers.