Adam Blatner

There are tons of things I don’t care for that much. Meh. Some stuff I prefer not to encounter, engage, hear, go to. I don’t need to put them down, but they’re just so not my cup of tea. And then there are things I sort of like. And things I really like. But what’s occurred to me this weekend is that I cannot manage all the stuff I really like. Maybe I need to divide this last category, differentiating between what I like, what I really like, and what I really, really like. The point here is to think about or set a measure for what I keep. Because I have so much doggone stuff and I need to divest, not accumulate more! 

I was at a friend’s home and there were some sculptures that really attracted me, but then again they were only one “really.” After all, where would I put it?  It’s all a matter of stuff that I have filled my home with that are in the 0.8 – 3 real-ies. How much is it enjoyable?

Of course, I want it all! I have zillions of dollars and I can build rooms in my castle that will use this or that nice piece of wooden molding, or feature this or that piece of furniture. William Randolph Hearst did this in his castle, San Simeon, on the mid-California coast—now a museum. But it’s also an example of having stuff, gloating over all the stuff one “has.”

You see, at another level it’s sort of empty. That old spectrum of desire lays out what I want to cling to more and not so much, and I even glimpse this all as a reflection of what might be seen as a bad habit of desiring, more or less. As I get older, it’s clear I’ll lose it all. An interesting meditation.

I’ve called this the Gollum Complex (and I talk about this on old blogs 994 and 1587  — near the bottom on that one). If Freud can talk about an Oedipal Complex—alluding to the mythical ancient Greek story Oedipus, well, then I can allude to a character from J.R.R. Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” books. Gollum was a creepy half man half fish who was totally fixed on a little object—the ring—which was addictively “my precious” to him.

I fear that I have a bit of a Gollum complex for so very much of my stuff. I’m not proud of this, but it reflects my identity as tied up with books and notebooks that maybe I’ll use someday. I’m getting closer to divesting myself of all this crap, but they still call out to me, these “things.” Ah, me. Well, I’m watching it.

My life is spinning out and I’m beginning to realize that who I help may have more consequence than what I have.