Mary Oliver

The word “clutter” has entered the marketplace of ideas over the past 5 years. How much do we have—how much do we need? If we rid ourselves of the excess, will it bring us peace or nostalgia for what’s been given up?

Here’s a poem for your consideration by Mary Oliver (September 10, 1935 – January 17, 2019), American poet who won the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize.

Storage

When I moved from one house to another
there were many things I had no room
for. What does one do? I rented a storage
space. And filled it. Years passed.
Occasionally I went there and looked in,
but nothing happened, not a single
twinge of the heart.
As I grew older the things I cared
about grew fewer, but were more
important. So one day I undid the lock
and called the trash man. He took
everything.
I felt like the little donkey when
his burden is finally lifted. Things!
Burn them, burn them! Make a beautiful
fire! More room in your heart for love,
for the trees! For the birds who own
nothing — the reason they can fly.
--Mary Oliver