I haven’t seen these baseboards in years! While that’s by design for CD shelving, that mentality perfectly summarizes the hoarder mindset, which I aim to reduce or stop at my next residence. It’s fine to own stuff, but to completely forget what you own to the degree I have over the years implies a certain callous disrespectfulness to the stuff itself, which needs to stop. The answer is simple: slowly unpack and deeply consider ownership.
I’ve already packed a good amount of my CDs.
I started with alphabetical order, then a suboptimal order, but that’s alright because I still have years to sort through everything more thoroughly. This first pass is just skimming off the top and getting rid of all the albums I hate or feel ambivalent toward. In my next residence, there will be some CDs I’ll be much more interested in hearing than others, but I’m going to unpack slowly. It won’t be a mad rush to rebuild this shelving unit, unbox everything, display everything, and never listen to a majority of it.
This shelving unit is giving me a good exercise in how I want to proceed.
The CDs in the upper racks are ones that I still need to hear. It’s either a CD I need to hear for the first time, from say a musician I like but was a weirdo about where I bought some CDs at a show or something and never did anything with it, or, it’s a CD I’m not quite interested in keeping, but maybe… just maybe… I do! The last chance for ownership, if you will, because as I filter through the stuff I absolutely want to keep, the pile grows of stuff that I’ve continually skipped on listening to over these past few months.
Then, the Week of Decluttering will reckon.
I imagine this week, which is still probably a few weeks out from when this essay publishes, will be the final week before I actually move into my next residence, where all that’s left within this current residence is the stuff I’m not really attached to at all. That week will be the week when I start this mantra: I haven’t [listened to this CD] in years, I haven’t felt like [listening to this CD] even once since this move kicked into high gear months ago, and I haven’t [felt like listening to this CD] yet during this week: it’s gone!
Then it will go in the donation or sell pile.
With the abstraction of sentimentality removed from my possessions, as they sit in boxes for temporary weeks, long-term months, or even years, I will sort through every CD or action figure or book with a neutral attitude. I’ll consider, individually, how each object enriches my life. This will significantly reduce any duplicates I may have in any collection, because without even consulting my online catalogs, I’ll roughly know whether I own something or not…
Eventually, everything remaining in those boxes should be donated or sold.
|Sources: My personal experience.|
|Inspirations: Looking at the baseboards, wanting to write an essay about my CD moving process, and then the title came to mind.|
|Related: Other Moving Zeal essays.
— CD essays:
1. Albums: Move, Sell?
2. Luxury of Ownership
3. “Close Enough” Lumpings
4. Last Heard: Pre-Cataloging
5. Album Sorting Algorithms
6. Slow to Unearth
|Photo: Some subtle advertising, including the brand name of the shelving unit, was obscured.|
|Written On: December 9th [30 minutes]|
|Last Edited: After writing this, it didn’t feel as good as it should have, so I did a second-pass edit for about 10 minutes. It’s more coherent now.|