With Christmas almost upon us (my shoulders ache already), it seems only fitting to quote Oscar Wilde:
“There are only two tragedies in life: One is not getting what you want, the other is getting it.”
A. You get a new crock pot, well, you better plan on making dinner for 12!
B. You don’t get a new crock pot, you better plan on making dinner for 12 All. Day. Long.
What is it we all want anyway? How many conversations have I had about too much stuff? Too much in our basements, closets, clutter clutter everywhere. Downsizing is the verb du jour. As in…
A. “We are downsizing, so I am selling all of my husbands bobble heads when he goes on a work trip.”
B. “We are downsizing, so I only keep two days worth of groceries in the house at any given time to make room for the wine of the month club bottles.
C. “We are downsizing, so we decided to give the children away.”
Today’s tragedy begins with too much stuff. So much stuff that friends and neighbors are claiming they cannot possibly move. Where are they going anyway? Somewhere with less room for stuff? My parents generation lived (and died) to acquire more things. Most stayed in one house for their entire lives filling it like an Egyptian tomb. It was success in tangible terms. Now we are rejecting it outright. And here comes Christmas.
This brings me to my latest writing project which involves paring down words, phrases, sentences and in some cases, entire chapters. What to keep, what to throw away? Some days I just want to torch it all and tell people I am a dynamic solutions specialist.
To be clear, I am trying to improve my writing by saying less and less. If I say nothing at all, will the great multitude finally sit up and listen? “Hey, there’s Sally Wright’s latest, it’s a book of blank pages. She’s a genius.”
“And, I hear she makes a great chili in her new crock pot.”
Are you filling an Egyptian tomb, paring down, or just making a damn good chili? Tell the truth.