I read this blog about a project called “the burning house” where people answer the question “if your house was burning, what would you take with you?” with a single picture.
Of course, the idea compelled me to immediately survey the place, wondering how I could artfully contribute to the project.
Perhaps because of my rather grey mood today, or general all-or-nothing attitude towards life, I came to a rather morose realization.
I don’t know that I would grab anything.
There’s no one particular possession that makes me hurt to leave behind. All the physical, tactile things I’ve really loved have been broken, chewed (Oscar!), lost or worn completely out at some point. I think it’s God’s way of keeping me (less) materialistic.
Sure, I love the things I have. Lord knows I love collecting, surrounding myself with design, trinkets, mementos. And Aaron knows me too well to throw away a greeting card without a considerable mourning period, but if I really had to do it – evacuate my life with just the essentials, they would be just that.
Dogs, computer, phone.
Assuming the computer data was all backed up somewhere else, I could let that burn too.
There’s something about contemplating the most terrifying of life scenarios that reframes the way our minds think. Once the impassable mental barrier is broken between the land of routine and that-stuff-only-happens-to-other-people, there’s an eerie freedom on the other side.
I really think there must be something wrong with me to have this general feeling. That escape from everything – even the good things – is somehow better. A relief.
Does everyone have this place in their mind?
Maybe I just really need a vacation.