You Can’t Take it With You
We love our stuff, it’s very comforting to us. In many ways, we think that our possessions define us, but they don’t. Our attachments to things are at the very least inconsequential but more often wasteful. You can’t take your things with you when you die yet they still exist. They either become a specific problem for someone you love or likely end up in a landfill which is everyone’s problem.
Looking around my house I can speak at length about the many things I own. I can tell you all about where I got my first Mac and why that’s meaningful for me. If you notice my small collection of locks, I can tell you that their mechanical and industrial qualities appeal to me. On my shelf is a classic Coke bottle I brought home from another country with Coca-Cola printed in two languages.
While writing this, I sipped coffee from a ceramic cup that belonged to my mother. She died last year.
One of her notable qualities was her love of beautiful handmade objects. She appreciated crafts of glass, ceramic, and metalwork. She loved photography and art. Her apartment was filled with her stuff but curated on shelves and walls. She wasn’t a hoarder, although there’s a fine line between hoarding and collecting. Collections don’t have mice living in them and aren’t likely to collapse on top of you. :)
My sister and I have been left to account for her things. What do we keep? What do we throw away? What do we gift or hand down to our family? How do we manage it all? This accounting led me to three concepts.
Consider the following diagram:
Swedish Death Cleaning (döstädning)
The author Margareta Magnusson provides practical advice for decluttering and organizing your home to reduce the burden on loved ones after you die.
It has three basic tenets:
Declutter with Purpose: The process involves thoughtfully going through your belongings and deciding what to keep, what to give away, and what to discard. The goal is to ensure that the items you leave behind are meaningful and not a burden to your loved ones. Marie Kondo teaches us KonMari and encourages us to tidy up and only keep what “sparks joy.” These two practices have cleaning in common.
Start Early: Swedish Death Cleaning encourages people to start this process well before they anticipate needing it. This allows for a more relaxed and thorough approach, making the process less overwhelming and more manageable. In the case of my mother, she could have helped my sister and me with her beloved collection.
Consider Your Loved Ones: A central principle of döstädning is thinking about the impact your belongings will have on those you leave behind. This means being mindful of what you keep, ensuring it holds sentimental or practical value, and communicating your intentions and wishes clearly to your family and friends. This is where KonMari differs. It’s fine for individuals to only keep things that spark joy, but Döstädning extends this to our lives closer to the end. What of ours might spark joy in our loved ones? Things are tangible and last longer than you. In the case of my mother’s collection, because many of the objects were handcrafted, this could have meant cataloging the items and identifying the artist…many of the pieces have signatures but are difficult to read, and even for the ones we can read, we’d have to research to do.
Mono no Aware (物の哀れ)
This is a Japanese term that translates literally as “the pathos of things.” But more loosely, it could also mean “the beauty of things passing.” As an emotion, it falls somewhere between sorrow and serenity. To feel mono no aware is to experience impermanence, the inevitability of change, and the tranquility of transience — often all these things at once.
It applies equally to both a warm summer breeze and my Coke bottle. The difference of course is the tangibility of the latter. I might tell my wife how the breeze felt but it’s ephemeral and even if we felt it together, it’s too small a moment to remember. When I die, my kids will wonder why I kept the bottle, even if I took the time to write down why. The object’s emotional resonance will be lost. Both the breeze and the bottle are the same - meaningless out of context.
“No Buy” Movement
This movement encourages people to be mindful of their spending and to budget within their means. Many people buy way more than they need. This can put them in debt and while I’d been aware of this for a long time, I came to see the bigger picture when I helped design a lending service for a well-known financial institution. In this project, we identified “cyclical debtors” or people who incur recurring debt: they pay it and then gather it again. Owing money can be unavoidable but sometimes self-imposed. By practicing “no buy”, people can gain more control of their lives, save more, accumulate fewer things, and lower debts. My mom didn’t die in debt, but also never accumulated any money.
Combining these principles might reveal quality, value, and care
From a sustainability perspective, our stuff matters. Raw materials were extracted, and manufactured, and the end products were transported to us — all of which have implications about our environment. When we buy a cool t-shirt that says save the planet, because we love the message, consider that it will more than likely end up in a landfill. The irony is thick. Moving forward in my life, in addition to embracing the above concepts, I’m going to be a great deal more judicious about the things I buy.
Quality
When considering a new purchase, what is the quality of the item? Practically, people love IKEA because it’s affordable and mobile. I can buy a table flat packed and get it home in the back of my car or on the subway. I can assemble it with a few provided tools and I’m all set. I bought my kids bunk beds/desks for their room and when they outgrew them, I repurposed the parts — building shelves for other rooms. For me, an item from IKEA needs to have utility past its given purpose. When I can afford it, I also shop at antique/collectible stores or fairs. I bought my kid a mid-century modern dresser. For me, the design and durability of the piece would ensure it lasted and could be handed down. Even if my kids don’t appreciate the aesthetic, they can sell it or give it to someone who does. My sense of quality is about an item’s use both in and past my life. Quality is personal. How do you define it? What are the qualities of the things you buy and how often do you stop and consider them?
Value
If the things I own or buy are valuable to me, I must accept that this value may not live past me. I’m going to take a long look at the things I own, assign a current and future value to them, and decide how to deal with this item. Is it something my kids will want? Is it something a friend will want? Is it something that someone else can use? The Coke bottle doesn’t fit any of these categories, so it will go. For the impractical things I own like artwork, I will take the time to describe its value before I go and therefore decisions might be easier for what happens to it. Lastly, value is also not singular. One person’s trash is another person’s treasure. Maybe even the Coke bottle? What do you value? How do you communicate value?
Care
Maintenance, service, and cleaning are about care. I’m taking a closer look at the care we apply to our stuff. Is it dirty and can it be cleaned? Is it broken and can it be repaired? Was it designed with these things in mind? Why not? If I value it, I’ll care for it because entropy is part of existence. I’ll care for the things I own and buy things that I can meaningfully maintain.
While we love our stuff, we can’t take it with us, and while it is emotionally impermanent, it still exists.
