My circumstances have made me into a minimalist.
I have found little interest in things anymore, and I value what I already have more. It’s not that I’m a true minimalist, no, far from it.
I do not have a safe place to store my “stuff.” If I display any of my collections, they are at risk of being at the receiving end of a tantrum. I don’t feel safe, and because of that, being a collector has lost its sense of importance.
The value of a collection is given by the collector and also those who have a similar appreciation as the collector. You know how the old adage goes? Another man’s trash is another man’s treasure? Well, it’s the same with collections, right? Another man’s toy collection is just a child’s playthings to another person.
If I don’t have a safe place to store my collection, nor a way to talk about my collection or even pass on my collection when I kick the proverbial bucket… what’s the point?
It feels empty. Pointless.
In the end, our possessions will be left behind, and we will be nothing more than dust beneath the ground and stories in other people’s memories.
Have a nice day!