my 1980’s saturday morning routine is a gem forever burnished in my mind. top of the list was watching “smurfs.” magic coupled with very small, one room, round mushroom houses and communal living—yes please! …intriguing how little core interests actually morph over the years.:) next, i would set up the small, gray/silver, one-cassette player (that my parents gave me for christmas one glorious year) in front of our singularly spectacular downstairs radio to record my favorite tunes of the week from “the top 40” list played on U93. (loving that i still remember the station.)
music has always been an integral (read: hands-down essential) piece of my well~being. i recall many nights, growing up, that i would tuck the same above-mentioned cassette player up next to my ear, under covers—the volume turned barely-there low (otherwise my dad’s quiet knock on the door would signify to turn it off completely) and fall asleep whilst playing the same tune over and over…and over. i also recall the handful of times that my dad would break out his older reel~to~reels. i was so amazed and impressed with these large cassettes. “santana” was always on the reel~to~reel menu. …and i can’t move on sans mention of the (huge) record player that i spent much time with, and lugged around both during and after my later school years—which, eventually, stopped working and found its way back to its original, cozy spot in my parents’ basement.
my collection of mixed tapes: a much-treasured memory, fo’ certain—however, in soulfully standing by my favorite william morris quote: “have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful,” i decided, this morning, to recycle the whole bundle. i don’t, necessarily, enjoy gazing at the heap of rectangular plastic, and the last tape-playing contraption made its way out of our home at some point in the late nineties (and by “late nineties,” i mean last year, laughing—i ‘likes’ the tapes, alright?!!)
our life here, earth~bound, is a second in eternity. what we’ll leave behind is positively unimportant when compared with what we’ll take with us.
the drift for many in our (current) society is (and has been for a long while) to collect and hold on to material belongings as if they both create and define a person. i have really enjoyed the process, over the past few years, of releasing belongings that i no longer have use for or find simple bliss in keeping around and, in this flow, allowing more space for freedom (on so many levels) and authentic connection.
living simply is satisfying.
it just is.