Quarantine may be the opportune time to take stock

I have never considered myself a minimalist. The term brings to mind nest-haired hippies who eat the same thing for breakfast every day, own one pair of jeans for all occasions, and shower infrequently to save water.

But I recently moved from Boston to Austin. I had three months to whittle down my possessions into a conceivably affordable amount of junk to ship or drive across the country. Several big ones ($$) and a 17-day road trip later, I arrived in my new home and unpacked. As I did, I found even more things to discard. For the most part, I felt confident in my decisions of which things to keep, delighting in their existence as I tacked my most prized possessions onto my refrigerator: souvenir bottle openers from 19 countries and I don’t know how many states and cities.

Fast forward six months and we are in a pandemic-induced recession. I commute only to my beertending job and back home. My shelf space in my pantry and fridge are becoming increasingly visible as I am avoiding the grocery store as long as possible. The initial panic and pain and fear that my new living situation has introduced has mostly subsided (mostly…sort of). I have accepted the fact that for a while, I will not traveling for any concerts, weddings, family gatherings, baby showers, weekends with my long-distance sweetheart, friend reunions, college reunions, birthdays, or holidays. I will not collect any more bottle openers.

So my focus turns inward. I use my bottle openers to open more bottles of beer drank at home than at the bar. I actually look at the books on my bookshelf, and consider reading them now that I can’t access the library. I rearranged the furniture in my bedroom, which as a result is much more functional and enjoyable to be in.

I have not learned a new language. I have not taken up knitting or sewing masks. I have considered and even discussed, but not yet endeavored to make a sourdough starter.

But I have taken stock. I have continued to find possessions I have no use for, neither for now in this dystopian movie I live in nor for the future prosperity I expect we will return to at some distant point in the future. I have affirmed what were already my priorities were the right ones: having the people I love consistently in my life even if now I cannot see them, and even if I cannot protect them from this virus except by staying put, and enjoying the company of my bottle openers and books.