That ‘Sparks Joy!’
As we establish a home and raise our children, every corner of our apartment or house starts to fill up with stuff. Every single thing we own seem absolutely necessary, until we have to move. That’s when we realize that we accumulated too much stuff. When this burdening truth dawned on me four years ago while moving away from Chisinau, Moldova, where my family and I lived for seven years, I reacted to it by saying, “It’s just stuff. I don’t need most of them, so let’s get rid of them.” And so I did, indeed. Furniture, books, toys, kitchen equipment, clothes, car and other things on wheels, all went out the door a few days before our departure. At that moment, I felt proud of all the times I hadn’t bought this and that to adorn my homes. And still, somehow, I couldn’t part with everything. There were 50 plus boxes, a chest, a few carpets and bicycles to take with us.
When those boxes and things arrived in our new home in Belgrade, Serbia, the elevator to our apartment didn’t work. As strong arms started carrying the boxes one by one going up 5 floors each time with not-so-happy smiles, I wondered if I needed those things at all. The question screamed in my head loud and clear by the time the 50th box was brought up with shaking and sweating arms and smiles that couldn’t even stretch without a lot of twitching. Nevertheless, the moment I opened the first box, the answer to that question emerged as a big YES. Each item that I unwrapped brought smiles to my face and warmth onto the unknown walls and floors I was looking at. The joy of building back my home spread from head to my toes. Yes, I really needed all that stuff.
Another wave of salt shakers would always arrive, the old ones replaced with the new, as surely as the south winds deposits its debris on the shore, and each time people would forget the objects with which they had lived so intimately, never even acknowledging their emotional attachments to them.
Pamuk Orhan, The Museum of Innocence
I find the passage above very relatable as it is easy to take for granted the bond we humans build with the objects we live with, especially for us expat folks. Somehow, we want to devalue our obsession with all material things even though throughout history humans have gone to great lengths and survived dangerous paths to do only one thing – to trade for things to acquire. Sure, less objects in our homes means less burdens literally and figuratively speaking. Minimalism is an intriguing quest and KonMari-ism is a legitimate inspiration. But, as buying less is financially more sound, the cost of losing emotional object or two may be higher than we think. The hero of Pamuk Orhan’s book based on a true story, fore example, couldn’t live without the belonging of his lover so much so that he built a museum for them and lived among them. In my own life, I know that there is a joy I feel when I see my wedding chest that is profound and indescribable. And still, I sometimes wonder if I should drag it across oceans.
I’m about to move again. As I am sorting through my stuff I find comfort in KonMari method of keeping things that ‘spark joy.’ Of course, with the changes in shipping prices due to the pandemic and the war in Ukraine, I should think a little harder about how much joy each object sparks. Yet, I am adamant to practice allowing myself to let the spark shine brighter than our budget may permit. Because, recently, I was at a friend’s house, and she changed my mindset a bit. Friends have a way of doing that. This friend is also a long time expatriate, but unlike me, she has freely and gladly gathered objects, big and small, from the countries she has lived in. Her apartment now houses a replica of a warrior from the Chinese Terracotta Army, along with a few more sizable sculptures and wooden carvings from all places she has lived in and visited. I got inspired by how my friend sits comfortably, at home, among the objects that have given her nomad home the identity and warmth it deserves, and that She deserves.
Worried about getting rid of stuff, we often forget the importance of keeping stuff. Marie Kondo doesn’t inspire us because she mercilessly gets rid of things, but rather because she teaches us about how to value our stuff to begin with. Because if we don’t know how to value things, how the hell do we know if we don’t value them enough to get rid of them? Keeping and shedding goes hand in hand. And this is something that we really don’t realize as we get busy nesting. While there is a joy in reducing our burdens, there is also a joy in keeping some. For me, I’m ready to dig into the savings a little bit in order to bring all that sparks joy. Because, now, I realize what’s at stake – the warm feeling and the unmistakable recognition of home in a new environment, instantly.
