Packrats

We all like to keep things around that remind us of the past. We snap photos, we keep souvenirs and some of us even fill attics with relics. Interestingly, we can each only handle a certain about of nostalgia. For some, letting go of objects is like wasting life. They fear that without the object, the memories will fade and experience will all be for nothing. Others hate the clutter and the constant reminder the past. They simply want to move on to better and different things. With both, though, there is an underlying sense of mortality. Objects seem to remind us and distract us from death and yet their existence enhances and assuages our fear of death. It is a remarkable contradiction.

I was in my parents’ basement a while back figuring out how I could clear the place out. They want to uproot and move to San Francisco, but have not been able to for years. There were five sets of cross-country skis there from back when we lived in Wisconsin. I remember not wanting to go ever because I would miss Voltron, but we went as a family and skied around during the Wisconsin winter. It was cold and monotonous and difficult and, yet, looking back, I think I loved it. The skis haven’t been used in over twenty years and they are hopelessly outdated. You couldn’t give them away. My parents packed them up, brought them to Baltimore and they have been sitting in this basement ever since. I’ve wanted to throw them out literally a hundred times, but haven’t been able to do so. The joy and sadness from seeing them has prevented me from bringing them upstairs every time I visit. And that goes for a million other pieces of trash in that basement.

I found out about Noah K Everyday today (everyday.noahkalina.com). He takes his photo every day and has done so for a decade. He’s not the only one, either. There are apparently dozens of other people who have been chronicling their daily image. And while it’s a neat concept and I always think I never have enough photos of myself, I think it would be overwhelming. Such harsh, precise documentation of mortality would be unbearable. Watching someone else age on Youtube is one thing, but to watch oneself would be like watching a clock tick. For Noah K, it’s a fairly unique accomplishment, but for me, it would be hell.

But, in the end, we keep what we need to keep and we toss what we need to toss and we handle what we can handle. That’s mortality.