Dressing Like A Scuplture

Thoughts about generosity.

Attempting to clean my closet, I’ve voluntarily entered an emotional battlefield. My mom has secondhand quoted me the Marie Kondo quote before in similar situations: “Get rid of the things in your home that no longer spark joy.” Utterly horrible strategy. Plungers, paper towel holders, and vacuums? Marie Kondo must have them gold-plated.

Last year, when I wanted to buy new clothes, I would head to Aritzia. Their clothes didn’t necessarily “spark joy” in me, but I felt they were decent enough quality to last while maintaining some style element. The only problem? I practically hate wearing any of them. Sleek and symmetrical are not my default. I gravitate toward color, pattern, and fun. Yet, my nicest everyday wear comprises blacks, browns, and greys—basically, dressing like a sculpture.

So here I am, looking at a wardrobe I took time curating that I never wear. Just give it away? I can’t. These are my most practical pieces. I paid the most for them. And what would a house be without plungers and vacuums?

As I’ve found my faith, I’ve been focusing a lot on deprogramming my brain from its default state of doing more, pushing harder, and hoarding everything. Giving certain things away is hard for me. Like many of you probably do, I can be prone to live in a state of quiet fear. And with that comes a need to prepare for the worst-case scenario. What if my savings aren’t enough one day? What if the government ruins everything, and I must leave the country? What if zombies take over, and I didn’t store 3-10 years of food supplies?

This morning, I read the following quote from Jen Wilkin:

Generosity flourishes only when we do not fear loss.

While she’s speaking directly to generosity, I had never really considered materialism as a fear. It is a boast, sure. It is a worldly status, yes. It is greed, absolutely. Fear put things into a different perspective.

She goes on to say that generosity is an affordable loss. And what we deem as “affordable loss.” We associate elements of risk with generosity. Yes, the same risk one might associate with something as fundamental as the stock market. To some extent, we feel we must covet. We must hoard and stockpile. If we don’t, we risk the anticipation of an up-and-coming provisional lack.

A few years ago, when I packed up my car and decided to live in Denver (I only lasted three months, lol), I couldn’t fit my salt lamp or my mattress topper in the car. That was a problem because I’d reduced every item I owned to fit in the backseats of my Subaru Impreza. I loved my salt lamp and memory foam mattress topper, but they had to go between my books and clothes. When I arrived, I planned to buy new ones, but I remember being quite sad about the loss. I had just started taking personal finance classes and didn’t want to feel wasteful buying something I already had.

But they wouldn’t fit. So they were left behind.

When I got to Denver a few days later, there were just two items in the blank room I was moving into that the landlord had left for me: a salt lamp and a memory foam mattress topper. I practically cried.

Now that I’m Christian, I consider the goodness of God to be like that. I have countless examples of provisions just appearing before me that I didn’t think possible. Especially now, as I’m starting my own business.

We always hear about what it means to let fear control us. Sitting in my storage units and savings accounts, I thought I’d position myself to come out above that. But here I am, holding onto some shit I never wear and never want to wear in the depths of my closet. It's like some safe reserve in case I wake up one day and decide I want to cosplay Jan at Dunder Mifflin.

“Whoever loves money never has enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with their income. This, too, is meaningless.” 

Ecclesiastes 5:10

If generosity is what we deem an affordable loss, what fears reinforce what we hold onto? How do we schedule our time? How do we play it small with our talents even?

If I’m really grateful for what God has done in my life, and I am, why am I living in the fear of the gifts being a limited resource? Isn’t it my calling to have faith that there’s always provision coming?

Before getting engaged, Colin and I had a tit-for-tat mentality. Since we lived together in dating, we split our general living expenses down the middle. For some subconscious reason, that always bothered us but it seemed most practical to me then. When we got engaged, we started looking at our finances as one. We gave each other visibility into our personal accounts. We threw away the spreadsheet showing who spent what that month. Now that we share that part of our lives, there is 100% a mentality of being a team. We give each other honesty but also generosity in that way. There’s full trust that we have our best interests and goals in mind and that there doesn’t need to be a scoreboard. And I can’t begin telling you the freedom and respect it’s given us within our relationship. Truly, it is a gift from God.

I don’t think this is an article telling you to drain your accounts or do something radical. Saving money is important. But this morning, I am thinking about the little trip I need to take to Goodwill tonight. And how hard it can be to remember that generosity isn’t a good deed. It’s the absence of fear. It’s the assurance that we are secure even when the market is bearish. It’s simply the truth in action.

And maybe, Marie Kondo, that’s where that spark of joy really is. :-)

What possession, talent, or time slot was on your mind as you read this? Maybe it’s time to give it away in generosity. And with it, your paralyzing ideation of loss. Freedom doesn’t come from fear.

-linds