Little treasures to keep

I was reading Roberto's post on his blog on springcleaning,
http://ablogeclectic.blogspot.com/
and I was wondering, what is it that makes us humans accumulate those tiny treasures that we jealously keep from the declutter mania? I was thinking it may have to do with whatever amassing instinct is left to us, or the nesting instinct, the territorial instinct. And my living in a small space is giving me a hard time preserving that instinct. However I claim the right to keep those things, the right to nest, to mark my territory, the right not to follow the trend of political correctness, not to follow the dictatorial slogans of those magazines "De- clutter! Get rid of the clutter! Make room! How to make your space look bigger, etc..."
Mind your own business, who are you, to tell me what I need to keep or not, who are you to tell me how to arrange my nest and make it look like a Martha Steward home? I don't want my home to look like Martha Steward's! The devils even try to make you feel gulity about it. Make it sound like it's a disease. They make seminars to teach you how to declutter. Pretty scary, if you think of it: get rid of everything personal. Get in the mainstream. Live in a new house that's the spitting image of your neighbor's house. Buy the same things.
I say NoooOOOOOOO!
Don't be mistaken, I do my springcleaning too, not because I have to do it as a good housewife, but rather to be in tune with nature's renewal in spring. So I do take some things out... to put other ones in.
But I do keep the treasures: The letter mom wrote to me when I left to settle in my first apartment in Paris. My Navajo friend's cedar flute. A token Eddie and I exchanged back when I was in Paris. A doodling Kurt made at the cafe and gave me. Jeff's poem. A card my daughter wrote me after my divorce where she told me "Mama I'd follow you in hell", some gifts and cards my ballet students gave me. A copy of an egyptian cup from the Louvre museum my students offered me. Pieces of fabric. Pieces of jewelry that I don't wear but keep because of their sentimental value. Newspaper articles. Some of my old paintings that are ugly but make me feel good when I look at them since I can then see my slow but sure progress. A hilarious little story my daughter wrote when in primary school. Rocks collected each time I go to the beach. Sand from Tunisia. Red sand I gathered from Monument valley, that I put in a pot made by one of my Navajo friends. My favorite pictures, books, magazines (not Martha Steward type). My ballet shoes. (Don't laugh, my husband still keeps 2 of his racing bykes, that takes much more space!). It's endless.
In chinese astrology, I'm a rat. That's probably why. So I'm a rat, a river rat.