It can be freeing when you don't have a lot of physical possessions to worry about. If you need to move from one location to another, whether it's a long or short distance, you don't have to deal with getting a truck to move a lot of heavy furniture, you don't have to hunt down several pairs of brawny arms to help with the lifting, and you don't have to have a designated space to store what you can't use if you're not able to take that furniture with you. In other words, if you don't own a lot of stuff your ease of mobility is greatly enhanced.

I've owned various pieces of furniture through the years, but having moved cross-country several times, as well as in-and-out of various apartments and homes of family members, I've both gained and gotten rid of a number of things. Some of the furniture I owned in the past was recycled to other family members -- the first set of coffee and end-tables that I bought 5-6 years ago were once used in my younger sister's apartment, and now my 19-year-old brother will be using them when he moves into a new apartment this weekend. A 25-inch TV that I bought back in 1999 (a monster of a set, but it's still hanging in there) is currently in the home of my older sister, and she's also had my computer desk at her place for the past few years.

When I moved to northern VA last fall (and into the first apartment that I've ever lived in entirely on my own), I had to buy a number of things to fill up the space -- a bookshelf, several tables, a sofa and chair. (I'm no longer in possession of this furniture either, but that's a subject for another post.)

The thing is, there are both advantages and disadvantages to not having a lot of possessions. Like I said, easy mobility is definitely an advantage. I recently moved out of my apartment and, not ready to sign another lease, decided to move in temporarily with a friend. But just because a friend is willing to take you in and store some of your things, doesn't mean they have the room -- or the inclination -- to store a lot of your stuff. A closet cleared out to house my clothes, a few bins and suitcases, additional food in the kitchen -- it's a lot different than showing up with a moving truck. So when you need to go somewhere fast, having a lesser amount of "things" is a good way to ensure that you'll have a better chance of being welcomed wherever you're going.

The disadvantage to this arrangement is a lack of comfort; not being able to have your things spread out as opposed to someone else's. My older sister moved into a new townhouse recently, and...you know, it looks really great. She's collected some really nice things over the years -- a period of time in which I spent five months in Amsterdam on a study-abroad program, went back and forth across the U.S., and then moved to northern VA. I don't regret any of the decisions I've made, but sometimes -- especially when I notice that I can fit most of my possessions in a few car loads -- it's tough seeing what the alternative might have been.

Janet lived in a hotel for 26 days when she moved to a new city to go to law school, and this is what she said when she finally got her stuff back:

This weekend, after 26 nights in a hotel, Will and I finally moved into our apartment. The U-Haul arrived on Saturday and the 14-foot truck was jam packed with our stuff. Over 40 boxes full of items plus furniture, lamps, paintings, plastic organizers, and my espresso maker which rode safely with my mom to Davis on the front seat because she promised, if nothing else, to get my coffee machine here in one piece.

Once the truck was empty and all of our stuff was moved to our upstairs apartment (don't even get me started about my legs and how they hurt), I began to cut open the tape on all the boxes to look at my things. With the exception of a few favorite items, I had forgotten what it was that we had. We had gotten along perfectly fine in the hotel with only one carload of stuff, so what in the hell did we own that could fill an entire U-Haul to the brim? Clearly nothing that we couldn't live without.

District Belle is moving from DC to NYC and downsizing her belongings in the process.

What do you do when you move from DC to NYC? You try to take a reasonably sized smallish 1 bedroom and figure out as many corners as possible you can cut to eliminate even more of your smallish collection of most prized possesions (saving, of course, all 35-40 boxes of shoes - because those are non-negotiable).

What have I been doing to work towards accomplishing this ultimate goal? The initial step was throwing out all of my CD cases. Liberating. Next, I've been hand-folding all of my clothing and putting them into boxes and as I am doing so, I'm weeding out those things I never wear that I've held on to for many many shameless years. No mas. Poof. Gone. Now in the Trader Joe paper bags and soon to be happily en route to Good Will. What else? I have suits that are 2 sizes too big that I have not worn since college. Where are those going? You guessed it - donation. It's amazing how quickly you can compress your world down! [...]

I guess those who focus on the possibility of having spacious living arrangements will cringe at this next comment, but I'm still excited. Give me a cardboard box but let it overlook Manhattan in some way, and I'll be as content as can be. Bring it on.

Grace knows some people who have been living out of their car and staying with friends for months while they travel around the U.S. She likes her comforts of home, but acknowledges that having less stuff might not be so bad.

[W]hy was I so judgmental of them in the beginning? I thought that living the hobo lifestyle was something you couldn’t do in your late 20s and still be considered a “fully functioning member of society.” What’s with the criticism? I’d do just about anything if I could take a break from my job and just travel. It’s because I’ve been conditioned to feel that I’m nothing without a job, and I’m no one without possessions: clothing, a car, a house.

I listened to the radio today for the first time in a while. It was some random DC pop station, and the hosts were talking about sitting on some deck, celebrating Mother’s Day early with some lights strung up around them. Lights shaped liked bottles. And I wondered who the hell cares about that plastic, wasteful crap. There are people hungry, dying somewhere. Not hungry here, in front of me and you, but tucked away in some other country, some other street in some other town.

What do you say? Less stuff or more? Do you keep and/or display the extra belongings you acquire, or do you adopt a minimalist lifestyle even if you have a long-term place of your own?

Contributing editor Zandria also blogs at Keep Up With Me.