random thoughts on "stuff"

The other night I read a startling fact in my Sierra Club magazine. Even more startling was that I was actually exercising when I read it, making that 36 bucks to join the New Orleans YMCA worth it, and making the rest of those losers who work out for a living think that I actually take care of my body too… ok, not really. I admire them and wish there were some other compulsion to exercise other than I gave my credit card digits to the lady at the front desk and now I need to make sure I get my money’s worth.

But what I read was that in a 2004 survey, one-third of Americans said greed and materialism are our most urgent moral problems. Now I don’t know if there were options in this survey and the other options were people who spit incessantly because they have a phobia of saliva (I admit it… it’s me) or people who keep fingernail clippings to mail to their older brothers (also… me). But it sounds like people possibly have a clue into what I agree is a huge moral problem.

The same magazine had an article that I dog-eared earlier in the pages called “The Devil’s in the Retail; A cult of consumerism is sweeping the planet.” The author talked about a conference called “Gathering of Hearts” that he attended along with the Dalai Lama; leaders of the Sunni, Shia, and Sufi sects of Islam; the Episcopal dean of Grace Cathedral; Jewish rabbis, a member of the Iroquois Confederacy, and a Hindu. They all agreed that one moral problem is challenging all faiths… consumerism. He wrote of this new religion, “Its God is Mammon, its temples shopping malls, and its altars constructed of dollars, euros, yen, and rupees. As for its teachings, they consist of a sole commandment: Buy more.”

Back to me. Cause all my stories center around me. Yes it’s true. I got back this afternoon from a morning of gutting. Finished one home this morning and started on our next. It was once a beautiful plaster home but Katrina floodwaters swept through and chewed at the antique molding and spewed mold across the walls. The lady wants to keep all the molding and we’re trying to remove it carefully but we eventually had to call and tell her, “Hey, we’re not professionals. We can tear things apart. We’re not so good at dismanteling them.” I wanted to tell her things are moldy and rotten anyway. Start with a clean slate. I walked around the house and talked out loud… who would ever want to rebuild on this anyway? I wouldn’t put any money into reconstructing on this crap. Demo and start again.

And I hate to admit these words came out of my mouth because I like to play the part of the tree-hugger, landfill hater, reuse til it falls apart, recycle when it does kind of girl. But I’m tired. I can’t count how many homes I have dragged out to curbs. It was hard at first, but I’ve convinced myself all the debris goes somewhere and disappears. And God, it’s so much debris. I came across a news article the other day and maybe I should read it more often to get my mind back in order. It’s called, “Deconstructing for FEMA Dollars,” and it’s about how Portlanders are coming to teach New Orleaners how to recycle instead of throw everything away. I love you Portland.

http://www.wweek.com/editorial/3234/7709

I was thinking about all this today and how most of my volunteers down in St. Bernard would comment by the end of the week, “One thing I’ve learned is that I have way too much crap.” And I thought about how this winter I’m going home to Ohio and I’m getting rid of as much of my stuff as I can possibly part with. I also want to accumulate less... (check out this- http://groups.yahoo.com/group/thecompact) It took a tragedy to teach me this but after throwing away lifetimes of accumulated garbage from these peoples’ homes, it becomes just that… garbage.

I thought about how this past year I’ve lived on little and it’s shown me how little I really need. All the rest is just garbage. We travel from project to project with nothing but a government issued duffel bag and our own backpacks. I’ve learned that it’s more than I’d ever need. I hope this lesson sticks with me, this lesson about “stuff.” Because I really do feel lighter without it, closer to things more important, closer to heaven where I’m told real treasures are kept.