Meditation On the Material

As I stay cooped up indoors watching football on television during this cold Georgia week that starts the new year, I've come to a realization that everything I have, every stick of furniture, every item of clothes, all my electronics and foodstuffs and books and music and kitchenware and what-have-you, are all things that I had once wanted and now have.

That takes a minute to sink in.  We spend most of our waking lives focused on what we don't have, what we want, and either succumb to depression and longing if we don't get it, envy and jealousy if we perceive that others got it, or greed and possessiveness if we get to much of it.  But rarely do we look around and think, "I once wanted these socks, so much so that I picked them out at the store, spent some of my hard-earned money for them, and now they're mine." Or "I wanted light bulbs to put in my lamps so I could see better at night, and now I have them."  Or "Of all the myriad food choices at the supermarket, these are what I wanted to take home and eat, and now they're here for my nourishment and enjoyment."  I could go on, but I think you get the idea.

Every material thing that you own represents the fulfillment of a desire that you once had, no matter how small or insignificant.  Like most people, you probably spent a lifetime accumulating stuff and satisfying your desires, but how often do we step back and realize how fortunate we are, even if our material possessions are modest or few?  The glass is at least half full, but we're focused on the empty portion.

Everything I have is something I once wanted but now no longer crave.