Time: The Great Accumulator

This is how my house looks. Crates, boxes, suitcases. These ones to stay, those ones to go. Sorting through the old pictures, notebooks, stuff.

“Oh, where did you find that?” “Hey, do you remember this?!”

What to keep? This could be useful. The minimalists don’t appreciate the power in the potential of an item. “We must bring this, it’s been with us for so long, it has value to us, it symbolises what has shaped us.” Then there are the essentials, without which we cannot live. (Not sure I’ve convinced my wife to stick my books in that category).

What to chuck? We don’t use that. We want to keep that, but do we really need it? So much superfluity. We’ll put those things in the maybe box.

Where did so much stuff come from? We didn’t try to fill the place! Every time that we have moved (7 times in 7 years… the perfect number, right?) we’ve bared our arms, taken a deep breath, and culled our belongings. ESSENTIALS ONLY. But then we have that enemy of old, who outlasts us all. Time. He is the great accumulator. His wily ways of creeping up on us, his trickery of speeding by our days. And somehow, in the distraction, he passes by and deposits so much stuff. He truly is the great accumulator.

Not all is to despair. Memories; joy and sorrow. Time has given them too. Sometimes the stuff just came too.

Escaping the piles, I go to meet my fellow elder. But escaping piles does not mean escaping time. He follows. He affects everything. Houses accumulate stuff. Crumbling buildings accumulate moss, weeds and discarded cans. Churches too are no enemy of time. Accumulation of stuff infiltrates even there. A habit here, a poor song there. An assumption lounges in the corner while tradition lies everywhere.

To work against the tide of time. Stem its flow. What have we accumulated? Should it stay or go? Is it beneficial, is it part of our DNA?

Time has done some good work I suppose. It has brought growth, solidity, depth. Can we put them in the “keep” crate? The traditions are messy. Some should stay. But the others are hard to get rid of. Stick it in the “maybe” box for a while?

So, we fight against the mess we’ve got. The discerning work of packing up. Thankful for much that’s been given, but eager to let some go. We face off against that great accumulator: Time.