ON LEARNING — To Cultivate The Spirit.

Reflection from July 6th, 2013 @ Age 32

RE:  *REMEMBERING* WHAT $$ CAN’T BUY.

I’m just not sure what’s wrong with me sometimes.  I mean, I know—a lot, but honestly I know for sure that there is no shirt, sweater, purse, wallet, iMac, iPad Mini, set of keys to a car, anything—worth more than hearing my five-year-old nephew, hug me and kiss me before he goes to sleep and say, “Aunt Meesa, are your eyes painted?”  There is no worth to such things when it comes to the worth of my nephew’s statements.  “I love you Aunt Meesa.”  “Will you stay over night so you’ll be here when I wake up Aunt Meesa?”  “And we can have breakfast together Aunt Meesa!!”  No worth of any thing can be so great as to overcome even these seemingly silly little sentences of my five-year-old nephew.

So, I will say it again, because I’m obviously having trouble with the concept.  MONEY = DISTRACTION FROM THOSE THINGS THAT MATTER MOST.  I need to get on some meditation or something on over here.

Sometimes I think money enables you to do things with the people that matter to you the most, which can be fun, but I really do believe from the very bottom of my heart enraptured in every fiber of my being down to the core of the marrow of my bones, that these relationships we can take the time to cultivate, we are able, now, to take the time to cultivate—they are what make life worthwhile. 

So then I ask—why, again, am I obsessed with getting another shirt, dress, purse, or whatever?!?!  I don’t goddamned give a shit.  I am missing out on moments to go shop, then come home and try everything on, and then re-do my budget to see what fits in, then returning what does not or figuring a way to make it work—I’m just sick of it.  And the cigarettes.  My god does it so very much make me wonder, what demon am I sitting upon that is frightening me so with this much depth?

And then we come to the topic at hand—sitting here to enjoy the silence.  Sitting here—days, all these days, to enjoy nothing but the silence of ants marching.  Or is that the silence that I hear in my heart?  Or merely the silence I hear in my head?  Makes you wonder, huh?  Sure as hell does me.