Possessions

We arrive on this Earth without a dime, and yet, most of our needs are usually met. For a short span, maybe three years, the meaning of possessions does not enter our mind yet. We gladly share our toys and happily play with other children.

But all too soon this changes. Perhaps the sense of possessiveness is inherent in the human race, similar to the territorial rights in the animal world. Or could it be an acquired trait we learn from our parents and caretakers? “This is mine, don’t you touch it!”

I recently learned of an intriguing custom related to possessions. On the first birthday, a child is presented with a variety of items to choose from.  His or her choices will be indicative of future interests.

By the time we are three, a toy is no longer just a toy, it becomes my toy. Another child is no longer simply a playmate, it’s either my friend, or it’s not my friend.

As we advance on our path through life, our desire to accumulate belongings tends to grow; many of us develop a fondness of modern gadgets that we eagerly upgrade with every new model.

Some of us are content when we have enough and direct our energies toward creative endeavors, knowledge, sports, research or helping others. Yet some people consider “enough” hard to define; they find it more fulfilling when there is no upper limit to their acquiring mode.

Some strive for a grand life style—a big house, the latest car, exotic vacations, and a good college for their children. It reminds me of the new Russian capitalist, who is often depicted as “… overweight, with a short haircut, a thick gold chain and a crimson jacket. Nothing is out of his reach. "Daddy,” says his son, “all my schoolmates are riding in a school bus. I feel like a black sheep in your Mercedes." "Don’t worry, son. I'll buy you a Merc bus, and you'll ride like everyone else!"*

Our children’s education is probably the most important of our aspirations. In effect, it requires a great deal more than funds; it requires us to set a good example, live a healthy life, and perpetually express and convey our love for learning.

As we grow older and we retire from the official work force, we may find ourselves busier than ever; we volunteer for worthwhile causes, learn new hobbies, and explore new skills. At this point, our interest in possessions tends to change. We no longer crave new possessions unless we are collectors and like to leave something of value behind, or, heaven forbid, we are hoarders.

We realize that possessions are a burden that weigh us down. Possessions have to be taken care of, insured, stored, cleaned, and they take up space. We begin to appreciate the advantages of simplicity, and the idea of “getting rid of stuff” gains in appeal. We take a deep breath of relief when we’ve cleaned out a closet and can find things more easily. Our living space gains in size when unessential items are removed. Whenever I hear of an opportunity to contribute to a rummage sale, I rejoice and start searching. While doing so, I often chide myself: why did I ever buy this? Obviously, I didn’t know then what I know now.

Our attitude toward possessions may be a reflection of life’s cyclical nature. We arrive on Earth without a dime, and we’ll depart without one. More important, it confirms the wisdom of the sages, not to worry about possessions, but to focus on friends, on joy, and on being alive and savoring the beauty of this world.

Until next time,

Rosi

* from “Humor in Hard Times” by Roswitha McIntosh
http://www.mimiart.com/madman.html