The Unseen Here and
Now . . .
Stuart
Revercomb
Stuart
Revercomb is a marketing consultant and joyously married father of four
children. He seems to remember someone once telling him he ought to be
a writer. "The Unseen Here and Now" -- Thursdays.
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"Thursday's Fare"
A Commitment to Clutter
Clutter? You want clutter ?
Come on over ...
For the record, I am much better now than I used to be, but I'm far from being free of a genetic predisposition to keep just about every scrap of anything that has ever entered my life. My wife is about two degrees worse.
There is a closet beneath our basement steps that contains at least 75 articles in a 4-by-8 space. We have added so much stuff over the years that the back of it has developed the characteristics of what science terms a "black hole:" a point in space that has a gravitational density so high that not even light can escape its grasp.
Two microphone stands, an antique harp and my Granddad's old bowling ball were swept over the "event horizon" several years ago and we haven't seen them since. My youngest child found his way in there last summer and was only saved by the quick thinking of his 7-year-old brother who dragged him out by his shoelaces while keeping one hand on the treadmill bar just outside the door. Rob came out kicking and screaming, but he'll eventually know to thank his brother one day.
It's just a matter of time before the treadmill gets sucked in. A heck of a lot of exercise gear has disappeared in there too.
Like many clutter hounds, I occasionally find moments of Zen-like clarity when I am able to dispose some of the garbage that I normally hoard so well. But these moments are rare. When they hit, I am a freewheeling madman who is likely to throw out just about anything in my path. To describe it as a pendulum swing seems something of an understatement.
"Honey, why is the hot water heater in the back of the truck with all that other stuff?"
"Is that what that was?"
"The dog's back there too, you know ..."
"Oh -- tell her I'm sorry."
But at least I've never rented a storage unit. The sure sign of the true addict is the leasing of an off-premises paid "self storage" unit. If you are not two or three months on either side of a move that has necessitated such an arrangement, you are a certifiable clutter hound of the highest order.
"But I'm saving that for when my kids go off to college ..."
Right.
By the time your children are off to college, that antique mattress that YOU USED while away at school will be nothing less than cotton dust covering the rest of the stuff you can't bear to part with. It's also highly probable that the vinyl laminated, pressed particle board octagon table with the "Skip Castro -- Boogie At Midnight" bumper stickers all over it might prove to be a hard sell as well. Even to Junior.
Do yourself a favor. Say a prayer over it, sprinkle some water on it if you have to and say goodbye. Not even Bill Gates is rich enough to store stuff he knows he'll never need.
On the surface, such clutter can seem pretty harmless, but in reality it can rob us and others of our better focus in life. A disorganized closet, basement or attic can make it hard to enjoy and appreciate the useful things we do have. At its worst, it limits the opportunities for such items to live second lives in the service of those who need them most.
The Roanoke Rescue Mission is just such a place where the clutter of our material laden worlds can get a second chance to make a real difference for others. In addition to providing beds for more than 200 people a night in its transient and family shelters, and serving 400 meals a day, the Mission also recycles 1 million pounds of durable goods a year to 12,000 needy families in Southwest Virginia.
Let those numbers sink in a moment: More than 200 men, women and children laid their heads on a Rescue Mission pillow last night. The kitchen prepared, served and cleaned up after more than 400 meals served over breakfast, lunch and dinner. More than 230 families last week relied on something provided by the Mission that once served someone else in the valley.
And you and I thought they were just kind of a soup kitchen.
It is. But its also more. In addition to the grace of God, it relies on the donations of people like you and me who open our hearts, our resources and our closet doors to the possibility that we can make a difference in the lives of those who need us most.
Come to think of it, that IS grace.
So open up your "doors" and let the clutter out and the grace in. Support your local rescue mission.