My story: Gumby is the first toy I remember owning. It is
the oldest possession that I have that started out as mine.
It’s a miracle that I owned him to begin with. My parents
had a real issue with advertising and the messages that they portray. They
would not buy (or let us buy) anything that was advertised on tv. This sparked
my fascination of marketing psychology, it’s kind of rebellious I chose
advertising design for my career of choice.
Along with Pokey, he provided countless hours of entertainment
and comfort. I used to gnaw on him when I was bored or stressed. There are
teeth marks all over him, and his arms have spindly wires coming out of them.
Pokey is no longer with us, after I bit his legs completely off. A collector
would not be impressed. Nom, nom, nom.
The truth: Gumby has got to go. He represents the beginning
of a lifetime of accumulation, and is not the better for wear and tear.
My action: I brought Gumby to an asana yoga retreat this
weekend, as my totem of things that have passed. A symbol of my dedication to
letting objects go that no longer bring me joy, that clutter my sacred present
space, I surrendered him to the altar.
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