This weekend I was busy cleaning out my parent's home. There is a great deal of stuff there for a variety of reasons that are difficult to explain. I rented an SUV to lug loads and loads of knick-knacks to the town dump.
Engaging in deep manual labor tends to remind a white-collar worker of their privilege in life. For the first time in quite a while, my fingernails are truly dirty ... which doesn't sound all too pleasant ... but I am reminded that in my normal pattern of life there might be discoloration from paint, or clay, or real "dirt" from yard work. But not the kind of dirt that can accumulate over decades of unkempt.
After five trips to the garbage dump I am a changed person. A photo of waste does no justice. You read often of the smell of the reality of waste in a variety of disastrous or unfortunate circumstances. It is a smell that is difficult to wash off oneself. Watching the personnel work so diligently at that site, I realized the ridiculous privilege I face everyday.
The act of reducing that which was at my parents' home, or achieving a state of less, has certainly given me more than I bargained for.
Posted by maeda at May 22, 2005 09:13 PM