Bob Schwartz

Maybe you think you have too much stuff, too little stuff, or just the right amount of stuff.

I’ve acquired stuff, moved stuff, disposed of stuff, acquired more stuff.

It is not that I have too much, too little, or just the right amount. It is that each thing is supposed to be doing something, or maybe has done something, or has the potential to do something in the future.

Books on the shelf are there to be read or referred to, to serve as colorful display, and to show visitors how well-read (or at least literarily acquisitive) I am. As for the books behind cabinet doors and in the closet, well, not as much showing off. In either place, am I actually reading and referring to most of them?

Everything here is like that—useful, decorative, both. Useful for practical, intellectual, emotional, spiritual purposes. Aesthetic and eye-pleasing, or not so much. Everything.

I’ve been considering talking to each of these things individually and asking: What exactly are you doing here? I would make it clear that they are not having to plead for their life (a little disingenuous, since disposal might be in their future). I just genuinely want to know what purpose they serve.

I’m looking at the floor lamp in the corner of my office. If asked, it would be a pretty simple conversation. It is the entire light in the room when the sun is down. It is not the only light I might have here, but here it is, so when it comes to purpose, the case is made.

Not as simple with many other things, the hundreds of things, big and small, that are everywhere here. Some of them are like the lamp, obviously useful. Others, either because there are too many of them (certain pieces of unworn/unwearable clothing) or of questionable/non-existent utility (dozens of pieces of old-school electronic equipment) would have a harder time explaining themselves.

But explain themselves they should. What will each of them say? What will each of your things say? Maybe we should ask.

© 2025 Bob Schwartz