A Lesson and Hope in These Tough Times

"Somewhere along the way, we, as a society, got lost. We thought that having it all would lead to happiness. Truth is, having it all only erodes the value of having. It leaves you with less. Less satisfaction. Less understanding. Less meaning. And less joy." - Green Bean

I just read this quote over at The Green Phone Booth. It really struck a chord with me. I can see this so much in children. The more toys they have, the more they seem to destroy them and treat them poorly. they do not find value in their toys. They are not "special".

The more we have, the more we want. It becomes an unquenchable thirst for things. I remember growing up the wonder and excitement of going through the Sears Wish Book, daydreaming about the toys I might have and what I might do with them. But, it was the dreaming and fantasizing that was the great thing. It reminds me of another quote. This one is from the kids movie "Escape to Witch Mountian". The older sister (what's her name?) tells her brother: "If we have everything we could ever want, we would have nothing left to wish for." Okay, I'm paraphrasing here. That always stuck with me.

Having things comes with a price. You have to manage these things and worry about them. Things tie you down. You give up a little piece of freedom and a little piece of time with each possession.

Choosing to have fewer things this year and choosing to buy more food locally and make more food from scratch has truly been a wonderful experience for us as a family and for me in particular. I appreciate my raspberry much more knowing that I can have it fresh only within a certain season. I appreciate my basil spice, fresh from my own garden. I am more sensitive to where these things come from and the cost to the society to create them.

Lord knows, I have so much further to go. By most standards, I don't live simply. It is only in comparison with the way I used to live. But with the little steps I have taken, with each thing I let go of, the more full my life feels.