I have been thinking about property a fair bit over the years. I think this firstly came to my mind through minimalistic living, although at that point very much was conflicted by what seemed ultimately a style and prestige around how to live, versus a functional living that may or may not require more or less stuff.
I remember a university friend visiting our studio, and being surprised at how much stuff we had, assuming we would live in some minimal white room.
I find having loads of stuff can be super anxiety inducing. I feel if it’s not important, or being used it has to go. I have a history of throwing things away. I don’t like doing it, but the feeling of getting it out of the way is a very powerful one. My partner would explain we might need it, or at least we should give it to a charity shop. I agreed, I often give stuff away if I think someone will use it. I do find it a bit of a piss take though that charity shops take free stuff and make money off it. Still, we made up a few bags and boxes to give to charity. They stayed in the cupboard for a very, very long time. I think throwing it away feels so good and also so bad, that it’s sort of like a micro punishment to ensure what I do get is important.
Another moment around property was the way we talk about where we live, or what we need to do to be able to live somewhere. Phrases like getting on the property ladder or owning property versus having a home, or somewhere to live, strike a scary contrast and look into what we have been force taught and have a hard time unlearning, that makes up so much of peoples intent in the world. Spending a lifetime working to own a thing, all the while under the illusion you already own it. I bought my first house…no you just bought yourself into a massive commitment to pay off a debt for the rest of your life with a chance you might live to be old enough to say you own it and that be true. What a nice feeling, being able to buy the chance to have a home. Crazy isn’t it. How about this crazy phrase affordable homes.
One of the more recent thoughts around property is since I was forced to marry for Visa reasons. I love my wife, I wish to spend as long together as this is good. I use this term often, but it really troubles me… my wife, like she is mine. My partner is better, riding of the system of contractual and legal marriage, but also the my part is an issue. It’s a bad habit and I have yet to shake it. Although I think I have learned a way to do just that. My partner has a name, so I shall say this is Lucia.
Yesterday I popped out quickly to pick up some food. I’d normally take my phone but as it’s such a short trip, I didn’t. The diner was really busy, and they were later than expected, not long, but I waited 10-15 minutes in total. However, during that time Lucia decided to pop out and find me. She did this not because she is my property, not because she is obliged to my contractual, religious law, but because she cares, and as she said, she was hungry.
I was reminded of a friend of my Dad speaking to him…hmm there it is again, my Dad, but I’ll came back to this. His friend was worried his wife was going to leave him and he didn’t know what he could do to make her stay. My Dad said, in his typical way of using either cars or birds, that he can’t keep a bird locked in a cage, and that he needed to open the cage door and if she wants to fly, then she will. It’s quite profound for my Dad and I wonder if he could have found that before going through a divorce, having tried everything he felt he could, but loosing the love of his life, you know, until he loved another. Anyway, the friend came back and was angry towards my Dad, saying he followed his advice, open the cage, and his wife has left him immediately. I guess she didn’t want to stay after all.
This story has always stuck with me. It’s full of grammatical and actual entitlement. It speaks about investment in a person for just rewards…whatever that is. It highlights transformation through experience, the married man, to the divorced broken heart, to the lover once again. It also shows people trying to understand behaviour, and experiencing the systems of understanding falling away, contradicting themselves, and ultimately breaking and failing for them. People are left trouble, lost, and needing to learn and share that learning to others. The battle of how we should live versus simply living.
So what about my Dad? How should I say this, how should I think about it? I have alway have the belief of family, at least the family I was part of, that we are people and we share some connections with each other and some share more than others. The idea of feeling obliged to do something because they are family, or that a parent knows best, always really pissed me off. They don’t. They are just people who can be shit at stuff as well. They might have more experience in trying to inact a role than others, but that doesn’t automatically mean they are in charge or know what is best for their property. Any child can remember what it felt like for a parent saying you will do as I tell you! F**k off with your orders. You are not mine no more than I am yours. We can be father and son, we share some history, we even share the present in my mind, but we are who we want to be. We decide the direction.
The removal of property, in as many ways as possible, I believe, fundamentally changes our relationship to the world the relationship of the world to us, and how we behave in it.