A Clear Christmas

Just under a year ago, I wrote about how my resolution for the new year was to quieten the mind.  I can’t pretend to have all the answers to a happy life, but this and a few others work for me.  There are the obvious such as feeling loved, physical comfort, getting out into fresh air, leaving space in life for music, arts and crafts etc, but two more that I am yet to articulate are; leaving the mind open to new and interesting things (without tipping into the bonkers, frantic over-stimulation previously mentioned - I’ll talk about this in a future post) and needing to clear the clutter and crap out of your life.  Before the clear minded amongst you accuse me of stating the bleedin’ obvious (“of course, we all need to clear the shitty things out of our lives - duh”) - I mean this in a literal sense - tidy up.

The kinder of my friends will tell me that I’m not an untidy person, that my house is perfectly presentable and that they are not freaked out by mould, mess and bad smells.  This is true - on the surface - our house has always been OK, not embarrassing, alright to invite people into.  But recently, due to some re-configuring of space upstairs we had to have another humungous clear-out, and oh my goodness what a fucking disgusting hole was lurking beneath the surface.  Out of the four of us, two have a dust allergy - I am not one of them - but it felt like I had an allergy by the end of it.  It literally was disease-inducing clearing out all the cupboards and drawers, moving furniture that had not been moved for a decade, and taking things off shelves and the tops of wardrobes.  In his excellent book about domestic life - ‘At Home’ - Bill Bryson states that almost all of our current illnesses are with us because in the last few thousand years, we have gone from being nomads to settling in one place; ‘sedentism’ as it is known. This has produced all manner of nasties in our homes and lives and “when we get sick, it is stone age diseases we suffer.”  But to some extent, that is to let us off the hook; the truly shocking thing wasn’t the dirt - it’s not surprising that rarely used, hard-to-reach places are covered in dust - it was the sheer amount of stuff we had that felt shameful.  Amongst the things we uncovered were a lovely but never used train set, long forgotten clothes, shoes, scarves and bags, tons of used-only-once toys, useless bits of plastic ‘amusing’ crap, many duplicate plugs, wires and gadgets that had been replaced because the first had been ‘lost’ and so on and so on.  I don’t think we’re alone in this; my lovely friend told me that her husband insisted that he needed new pants because ‘he hadn’t got any.’  She found nineteen pairs in the backs of drawers, cupboards and washing baskets.

The question therefore is - why?  Why is there so much stuff in our lives?  Going back a generation, my parents didn’t have nearly so many things… we lived in big empty houses with not much furniture or carpets and far less toys.  Many of my peers’ houses were similar; amusements for parents and children were sparser and boredom was a more natural part of our lives.  In simple economic terms, the reason for all our current possessions is straightforward - the detritus cluttering up our lives is cheaper, so we have more of it.  If I ask my mother why we didn’t have a particular treat as children, she always answers in the same way - “we couldn’t afford it.”  And yet we lived in what would now be considered an enormous house in West London that I couldn’t even dream of buying now.  The reason?  Because property was relatively cheap and toys, clothes, gadgets and food were expensive.

But expense, and the relative cost of things I think only partially answers the muddle and mess that surrounds us.  Our twenty first century diseases are more varied and complex because of the way we live.  Even in wealthy islands such as ours, most households have to survive on two, busy incomes and we are both explicitly and stealthily invited to have ever more beautiful houses and possessions, more exciting holidays and be able to impress everyone with our jobs and children.  It’s an impossible mix and is driving us crazy.  No wonder we don’t have time to appreciate the things we already have, can’t find them anyway and are constantly looking for distractions from our own ludicrous expectations.  There isn’t time to consider, take stock or even breathe properly.  We are throwing things into more and more ‘storage solutions’ (code for amassing more clutter into more attractive boxes) and losing even the things we value; we don’t have time to enjoy them anyway.  But enjoy them we must.  My greatest pleasure this year?  Moving (and therefore re-discovering) all my records and cds and listening to them even if doing little else.  It feels positively rebellious.  It was even satisfying sorting through all of the other family stuff (once the coughing fits had stopped), sharing memories, re-using things.

So if you can face it this winter holiday, go wild and have a bloody good clear out - you’ll discover treasures you’d forgotten you had, be able to see the back of your wardrobe and have a calmer vibe in your house.  Don’t give yourself a hard time if you can’t face it though.  Peace and love this Christmas.

Uplifting music of the day: ‘A Joyful Holiday’ by Samara Joy.  I haven’t named any particular track on this album, but this is definitely on my Christmas list for this year.  She has the kind of jazz voice that gives me so much hope and optimism.

Contemplative music of the day: ‘Sussex Carol’ arranged by David Willcocks.  Arguably this could fall into either category, but for me this version of the carol sums up such special childhood memories.  If performed well, it can take us to a magical Christmassy place.

Book:  The one mentioned above - ‘At Home’ by Bill Bryson.  His gift as a writer is being able to take almost any topic and write with pace, humour and an astonishing amount of facts.  Almost any of his books are excellent entertainment and good to read anywhere, at any time of year.