A lot of stuff, the hazy gathering that characterizes contemporary life. Closets loaded with garments we haven't worn in ages. Garages so laden with stuff that automobiles sleep outside. Monthly rentals of storage units provide space for objects we cannot use but cannot release.
Things grow magically. One item you purchase arrives with boxes, directions, and accessories, suddenly five items needing space are acquired. Stuff breeds material. A stand, a case, extra strings, a tuner are necessary for the guitar. Basic hobbies grow to be complicated equipment ecosystems.
Means I have a lot of things to accomplish, obligations have turned inventory, tasks stacking as actual things. Mental stuff crowds cognitive closets; anxieties, regrets, plans, grudges all taking up space rent-free.
Though Marie Kondo created a kingdom instructing others to clear things, stuff continues to rule. Still believing we require more items, we are drowning in plenty and suffocating beneath possessions. The American dream gauged in square footage needed to hold our goods.