Originally Written 3 March 2016
Today, I brought this GE coffeemaker to the recycle dumpster and threw it in. I hadn’t used it in more than a year, and had broken and disposed of the original coffee pot a while ago. As I walked to the dumpster, I knew I had to toss it in quickly, because I was starting to regret it.
I photographed it in the shade to preserve its dignity... and that thought filled me with amusement.
Things have no dignity.
Things are things, so why the heck was I feeling emotion and regret over some object?!
I was going to just share the pic, but instead I am thinking about the nature of objects and things. This is an especially poignant question for me now, as I am anticipating a move, during which I will dispose of many objects, articles of clothing, and, perhaps... memories?
Rest in Peace, GE Coffeemaker. You still worked, but did not work for me any more.
Things are quite the challenge. So many religious and secular philosophies warn us of the burden of objects and things, of how we accumulate so much “stuff” that we end up tied down and burdened, how our pursuit of things (particularly in the USA) drives us to selfish, cruel or disagreeable acts.
We learn how pursuing things, and clinging to things, can make us depressed and unsatisfied with life.
We have TV shows about hoarders, etc.
But, there are different factors related to things. I didn’t need that coffee pot. I have a new one, and have been using a French Press for coffee anyway, so why did it take me so long to take the walk out to the dumpster? In a word: memories.
This coffee maker was OLD, VERY old. I remember this coffee maker standing on the counter of the home where I grew up, and I inherited it when my parents moved to Florida, and were shedding THEIR things. It is because I connected it to childhood, because I could see it visually on the counter top that I held on to it. It had become a touchstone, which, somehow, magically, connected me to childhood.
It was my nostalgia and my own magical thinking which imbued it with this status. It was this “touchstone” status that had made me so reluctant to dispose of it, even though counter space is in short supply, and I am trying to get rid of “stuff,” so that I won’t have a COMPLETE nervous breakdown, when I move from here.
Objects take on this magical resonance sometimes. They are triggers to bring us back to special memories. I have been particularly prone to such things. I dump clothes, but see a shirt which had a special memory attached, and, though it is awful, I still hang on to it.
The thing is, we don’t need THINGS to trigger special memories.
That is the crazy thing about memory. As we get older, everything takes on the rose-color hue, anyway.
The thing with forgetting is that, if people forget something, they don’t realize they forgot it. They don’t need an object to remind them of this special thing. If it is truly special, they will remember. Clinging to a coffee maker does not connect me to my childhood. It connects me to a wonderful home. It reminds of my special family, but I remember those things anyway, and am connected to my family anyway. Memories are not palpable, like the things that we use as touchstones, but that is their advantage. We don’t have to pack them up to bring them with us everywhere we go.
As many are probably thinking, there are probably memories we are better off letting go anyway, painful memories that can haunt us. Why cling to things that conjure painful memories? Why cling to past pains and conjure past ghosts?
That said, I still find myself missing this THING, this inanimate object. It was old. It still worked. What coffeemaker today would still work after 30(?) years? It is nutty how our brains work. So long, coffee pot. I hope your components were well recycled.
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