The value of property

A friend who’d years ago graciously apportioned a small section of her basement for the temporary storage of my life’s belongings contacted me recently. Apparently, when I’d finally liberated the space of my boxes, I’d left behind some things – kitchen equipment, old shoes, a cache of jackets. Possessions I’d clearly not missed in the 2 years we’d been apart, excepting the one occasion when I wondered whatever happened to my precious shearling. I asked her to dispose of all items save for the jackets.

I’ve never been a frivolous jacket shopper and items of that magnitude merit considerable weighing of practical and gratifying aspects of ownership before committing. Would seeing each of those “lost jackets” revive those moments of considered thought, the decision to actually follow through on acquiring the item spurred by some aspect of nicety or necessity? Years later would I be grateful of this reunion, to again walk in a long-forgotten comfortable skin once carefully selected as part of my visual makeup to the general public; or burdened by its reappearance, questioning the original choice and onerous spatial accommodation?

Over the last several years, I’ve had occasion to live apart from the bulk of my personal belongings. For periods as long as a year, the sum of personal items within reasonable access ranged from objects that could be contained within a backpack to a small studio apartment. All other possessions of value would be stored somewhere far away, out of sight and more significantly, out of mind. This arrangement seemed to suit me best, unencumbered by physical objects in my immediate vicinity yet anchored by the psychic association to items representing the passage of my life.

Memorabilia – it has always for me been a tense tease between “memory” and “liability”. Without the benefit of memorabilia, we wouldn’t have such ready access to our past. Every glance, whiff or unconscious caress of an old letter, faded photo, creased concert ticket or never-worn trinket is like turning a combination key in the vault of our memory bank, unlocking unexpected images and responses in our minds’ eyes. Surely an easy way to cheat a leg up along the Buddhist path of non-attachment to the past is the jettisoning of memorabilia.

For individuals embarking on a “new life” with a spouse, that watershed moment of transitioning from one’s past to a future likely represents a point in time where the anchor of personal property ties is at its lightest, the old making way for the new. As someone yet to seriously approach such a defining watershed, property represents a tangible record and witness to all I’ve experienced.