Someone told me the other day that I wasn't materialistic. I am not sure whether it was meant as an insult, but I took it as a compliment. I really don't care about 'stuff'. Don't get me wrong, I used to - I loved having nice things. The older I get, it seems the less I require.
My house isn't spectacular, but it keeps the weather out. My clothes are probably starting to look dated and maybe some of them are a little worse for wear, but they are clean and keep me covered. My car isn't flashy, but it takes me to places I need to go. My phone doesn't have lots of technical thingummies, but it makes calls in an emergency. I might miss a meal here and there, but I am unlikely to starve to death.
I remember reading something about possessions - that we don't actual own anything, we just rent them. For example, a gold ring. You might buy it, but you don't own it because it will more than likely outlast you - so your payment was renting it for your lifetime. Over the past couple of years, I have learned that I need very little. I don't feel the need to have new furniture and knick-knacks and gadgets any more. I have seen so many people that I genuine and deeply cared for fade away because of cancer and Alzheimer's. Life is there to be lived, not to be spent polishing a car or dusting.
Don't get me wrong, there are still things I would like - a new PC wouldn't go amiss as mine has just celebrated it's tenth birthday. My car could do with an overhaul. I'd like some warm trousers for the winter. To be honest, I would much rather see what else is out there in the world and share it with people than own a load of clutter. If I had the money, I would travel. I have seen so little of my own country and there is a whole world out there - all those places to see, things to do, people to meet. Perhaps one day.
No comments:
Post a Comment