(actually, I'd take laser eye surgery over new glasses but I can't do it yet)
-a good camera to get back into my photography
(hopefully I'll finally be able to take the motorcycle course this year)
-a frame for my bed
(seriously, how much longer am I going to leave the mattresses on the floor)
-a hutch for the kitchen
-a sound system for the living room
-an iPod classic
I guess it's not too long of a list and a lot of those things are doable.
My parents taught me many life lessons and beliefs, but one of the main things was the evil of gathering too many material possessions and making them more important than the people in your life.
It's definitely a fair point. So much of our society is dedicated to self gratification--seeing something we want and taking it regardless of how much it will cost us in the future.
Thus, we're a society that lives in debt (totally speaking for myself) and we haven't learned how to wait...how to be patient.
That reminds me of one of my co-workers from my Second Cup days. She was an older lady who mothered all of us. Her name was Sue; her work name was Mama Sue. She was basically a second mother to me for two years. When I went through a time of withdrawal and a period of depression, she didn't press me for reasons why I was so different and cold...she waited for me to slowly come back to myself, with acceptance and love. She is basically an ideal mother.
Anyway, she would constantly say to me over and over again "good things come to those who wait". I think it was her life adage or mantra. She said it so often and so convincingly, I started believing it. Even though a part of me doubted that she was right, it had to be true... The pieces had come together for so many people around me...surely my time would come soon.
I have this crazy cat who chases you around the apartment playfully clawing at your ankles. He's also mastered the art of opening bedroom doors that are just a bit ajar and he is currently sitting on a jigsaw puzzle spread over a table, watching me contentedly. In the morning he climbs up on the bed and purrs loudly, kneading his paws happily on your body and cuddling with you.
Then there's the newest addition, a large and sensitive dog that follows me anxiously around the apartment, as though he fears loneliness and separation. I think he just might be the dog version of me. He's settled on a blanket in the living room, his head facing my way, his long gangly legs outstretched across the floor. We went for a run for the first time tonight and he barely moved his legs while I panted beside him.
My sister is out right now and I'm waiting for her to come home before I head to bed. I can't sleep without someone in the apartment. I'm so used to noise and people that it's hard to settle under the covers by myself; it feels lonely and cold. She has the strangest habits and mannerisms but I love spending time with her and talking to her. She swears at the animals as she trips over them running around her and under her feet, but I've caught her sneaking a cuddle with Mr Cat and talking to Licorice as though he can talk back.
Those are three things that mean more to me than the list of "wants" I posted at the beginning of this blog. I think it boils down to this--do you appreciate the things that you have right in front of you?
In the inspirational words of T.I. (who woulda thought?):
Everybody right here, what you need to do is be thankful for the life you got. Stop looking at what you ain't got and start being thankful for what you do got.
Peace and love.
P.S. Dug up this old photo of Sue and I. Ah the memories.