I don’t know.
I know when I see something I want to buy, I feel relief. I have an easy answer: I can’t buy it. It won’t fit into my 15 possessions. Whenever I buy one thing, I throw another thing out.
Is that freeing or imprisoning? I don’t know
Someone asked me, “Do you miss anything?”
Yes, every day. All the time. I had a drawing next to my desk of the superhero character from the 60s, Underdog. I loved it.
I had a Dr. McCoy doll from Star Trek. I had a photo album of photos from when I was a little kid. It had photos of me, my sisters, my parents. I had a collection of comic books built up over decades.
I miss them. I miss many things that I have lost in my life.
It feels like practice.
I practice “missing”.
The less I expect, the happier I am.
When I wake up in the morning, I look out the window. I see a 3 dimensional city of vertical buildings reaching into the clouds. I see the sunlight. I feel like I want to sleep more but I know I have to get up because I want to write.
I’m going to write. I’m going to do some business. I’m going to disappoint some people. I’m going to make other people happy.
Then I’m going to play ping pong. I’m going to prepare for some work I have to do tomorrow. And I’m going to play backgammon.
I miss many things every day. This is freedom.
To live a life filled with things that I miss. To give myself permission to be both happy and sad at the same time. Melancholy is freedom. Happiness all the time is prison.
I used to lock myself in that prison. Surrounded first by my possessions. Then surrounded by my goals. And the opinions people had of me. And the opinions people had of me. And my anxieties about tomorrow, which always drained me of energy for today.
I wrapped myself in so many expectations they kept me in prison.
Today I’m going to play. I’m going to miss. I’m going to laugh. I’m going to forget things. I have permission.
I’m free.Share This Post