In my first post I promised to explain the “why” and the “how” of my crazy scheme. I think I’ve now done a pretty good job of the “why” (do let me know if I haven’t!), but before I do the “how”, I should probably have a go at some of the “what”.
I’ve already told my landlord that I’m leaving, so I’ve gotta be out of this flat by the 12th of December, which is in 16 days. Looking around me right now at my remaining stuff, that’s a pretty scary deadline.
So in the previous post I explained how much I love the experience of new and unfamiliar surroundings, and ended on a question – why not keep that feeling going?
It’s easy to find practical reasons why not, but they all boil down to being tied to one location. Modern society seems to be built around the assumption that most people want to have a single permanent base, a place to call home, a place to put down roots. We get tied down financially, by jobs and contracts related to our homes – and emotionally, by relationships, dependents and family obligations. And of course we’re tied down physically by all the stuff we own.
Which is fine if you’re a put-down-roots sort of person. But what about those of us cursed with so-called wanderlust?
OK, I should probably try and explain my reasons for this crazy scheme. I’ll start with what I’m using as the title of the blog – what I like to call Fear Of Stuff.
In the nine years since I’ve been employed and living in rented accommodation, I’ve moved house six times, and each time I’ve had to physically touch and account for everything I own. Even though I’ve always striven to be minimalist in the amount of crap I have (my collection of possessions probably looks rather paltry by most people’s standards), confronting it all always makes me feel uneasy. How much of that stuff does a person really need? Continue reading