Unpacking stuff

Much has been said about stuff and our relationship with our stuff. I don't know that I have anything new to offer on the topic in general. However, I unpacked a lot of boxes recently, which had been packed by others - disinterested third parties - or should I say, interested not in the stuff, but only in the packing of the stuff, which was their humble manner of making a living. It's the packing of it that capture my attention as I unpacked.

I have been packed by others and unpacked myself often enough to know that things are never handled the way I would handle them. I try to prepare for this by pre-packing things as much as I reasonably can, through the use of plastic bins and sturdy new boxes (for my comic book collection of course). On occasion, the plastic bins have been emptied, all the contents packed as individual items and the empty boxes put into boxes by themselves. I don't know the business of packing and moving well enough, but I suspect there is a quota of boxes that must be used to give the impression of having done a proper job. It's not me they're trying to impress, which is obvious by the end result, but the managers who pay attention to the inventory of how many boxes and how much paper they used. This is the reason for packing containers in an empty state, or in the case of my most recent move, the packing of a single lampshade in an box completely by itself. It would be a shame to take unused boxes back to the warehouse.

Paper, too, must be used once opened. When it is on hand, it is only reasonable to wrap everything as neatly as possible - paper towels, dish towels and such. When it is sparse, a stack of DVDs makes good filler among the staple guns and picnic basket which happen to be somewhere within arm's reach.

As I unpacked, I observed in reverse, the thought process of the packers. They showed me what was important to them. They were careful with family photos in frames but not so careful with books off the shelf. Dishware got more loving attention than mixing bowls. It occurred to me that each packer showed his or her personality in the care taken with the packing of certain items. While I was tempted to say that none of it mattered because it was my stuff and not theirs, I did realize that the items that seemed significant to them were handled better.

In essence this was not a new idea for me, only a new manifestation of a familiar idea. The familiar idea is that each of us has a personal perspective in attempting to understand the world and each other. We filter our perceptions of others' actions through our understanding of ourselves. When we see a certain behavior, we don't think "why did he do that?" We think "why would I have done that if I had done it?" and we proceed with the interpretation from ourselves.

This is in general, of course. Those with greater amounts of real empathy can truly project their imagination from within themselves and into the behavioral shoes of the other.

The end result for me is that the next time I get ready for a packing job, I will want to make requests of certain personality types. I want my old collections, my kitchenware and my family heirlooms (such as they are) to be handled well, so I will want someone who is a little obsessive like myself, someone who appreciates cooking and someone with a sentimental side. In other words, I want to pack it all myself.