A Nostalgia Trip

 

I still haven't given up on my desire for a clutter free home, where everything is in order and I know where it all is. Slowly we are getting there and the last week has seen progress in what we commonly refer to as the Store Cupboard: a large walk-in narrow room, shelved from floor to ceiling, although why we felt the need to cram so much into the standing space from which to access those shelves, I honestly do not know.

I am proud to say that it is now tidied and a surfeit of unnecessary paraphernalia, buried in there for two decades has, at long last, found its way to the dustbin.

Whilst I wouldn't automatically descibe myself as a hoarder, there can be no doubt that I have a soft spot for sentimental items. Luckily the ageing process seems to have toughened me over the years and the accumulation of memorabilia has slowly ceased or, as in the case of photographs, gone digital. It's many years now for instance since I divested myself of all my theatre programmes and even longer since I disposed of a shoe box containing an early teenage collection of autographed wooden tent pegs from various Guide camps!

On this sort-out, however, I came across a box of letters received around 45 years ago, for the most part when I was still at university. Clearly, and despite the multitude of envelopes, they were only a hand-picked selection of the correspondence received at the time. Looking back it's hard to believe how often friends and I communicated and how we even found the time to sit down and write such long and entertaining epistles. Of course, there were no social media or messaging services to distract or occupy us and whilst a letter inside a stamped envelope has a certain nostalgic quality, today's text or multimedia message has only made quicker the exchange of dry humoured quips.

I was impressed to note just how many people I retained contact with either from school days or during university vacations. Apart from a few longstanding friendships, however, most of the relationships were inevitably ephemeral and, by and large, I have simply no idea where the authors now are. Why, therefore, I ever felt a need to retain them I am unsure but that is certainly easier to say after convincing myself that I have metamorphosed into a somewhat unmushy retiree with a passion to declutter and simplify. 

Putting maudlin affection for times long past aside isn't always easy, but when there is no longer any desire, even on my own part, to sit and peruse in detail the contents of historic communications from people who are now strangers, there is no obvious purpose in seeking to hang onto them. Just like a text message they captured the sender's thoughts or humour at a specific moment in time. Unlike a text message, there was no delete button.

Perhaps the real lesson from social media is the acceptance of the transcience of communication and the ease with which contents of an inbox can be erased and why even write letters when you can fill up the Internet with blog posts, videos and photographs? Less personal, but progress in so many ways.

This week my paper recycling bin is full and I have saved my unsuspecting progeny a job in the event that they inherit all my worldly goods or, better still, myself should we ever downsize.

 (Image by Blende12 on Pixabay)