Want and need are two things that we begin learning the difference of at a very early age. We learn that we need food and we want certain kinds. The two things, though similar, are distinctly different yet the dissimilarity sometimes has a blurred line. I think back to when I graduated high school. I had a perfectly good vehicle and didn’t need a new one. But, I wanted one so badly I could taste it. I had even gone to the car dealership and picked up every brochure about the model I wanted. It was a Saturn SC-Coupe that was all decked out. It had leather seats, a sunroof, and wood grain interior. It was a pretty car and I wanted it like a hog wants slop. I thought for sure I could sweet talk my Daddy into buying me that car and for a while I believe my Mama was worried I would.
Instead, Daddy told me to get a job to pay for it, stay in college, and they would help me get it if I could show them that I could balance all of that. That was inspiration enough to find the best job I could while still maintaining a full time college load. I ended up working almost full time and going to school full time because of my want of that new car. I wanted to prove to my high school counterparts that I was successful, which is almost laughable because aside from a few exceptions, what 18 year old can truly demonstrate a successful career? I wanted to impress people when they saw me riding around with the sunroof open and my hair blowing in the breeze. And, I eventually got that car. I worked early morning shifts, went to school, and went back to work. But, I did it and I felt like I had something to show for all of that hard work.
Next, I wanted to get married and felt like it may as well be a need since I wanted, again, to prove to somebody that I was loveable. I was worthy to be a wife. Then, I wanted a house and all of the “things” that went with a house. I was young, naive, and incredibly bad at math. I don’t know what magic I thought I had in my possession that could make my income enough to afford a car, a house, and all of the things that went with it as a young, poor, college graduate. I had a degree in Political Science for crying out loud.
I spent so many years wanting this or wanting that, the things that really mattered seemed to fly by in my peripheral vision like something I would attend to later. I wanted things to prove to myself and others that all of the sacrifices that I’d made in my life were worth it. I spent time accumulating furniture, knick knacks, crafts, groceries, you name it. I walked through thrift shops and antique shops almost appalled that people would discard their treasures so easily. I knew that life was more than things and I repeated that mantra to myself so many times it was robotic. Life was about the people who were in it, blah blah blah. There would be plenty of times to make memories and enjoy life once I’d achieved this invisible milestone that so many people like myself were busy doing.
But, alas, the collection of things may leave your house full of precious wares but it leaves it vastly empty of the things that really matter in life. Having the quartz countertops (which, by the way, I never had) or the solid wood flooring or the big SUV or fill in the blank — none of that holds any value when the life you were building gets flipped upside down. Constructing a life that fits into a mold because that’s what we think society wants us to do can leave us feeling quite empty when that mold becomes too constrictive or too much to bear. Suddenly, all of those precious things are seen for what they truly are — things.
Their value takes on a different meaning and it’s not the price tag that once adorned them. They become disposable and replaceable. For maybe the first time in a long time, you begin to see things differently and the things you wanted truly become past tense. The things you need are front and center, and you finally have the discernment possible to distinguish the two.
I’ve always had some awareness of how important the non-material things are in life. I had to learn from an early age that my wants were not always realistic and what my family needed the most was health. My Nannie was so sickly and lived with us my entire life. I wanted to not spend every summer in the hospital but Nannie needed to be there. I wanted to be a normal teenager and not the one who got called out in class after she’d been absent the day before because she had to drive her dad to chemo. But, what I needed that day was an advocate and boy, did my mama ever chew that teacher out. From that day forward, I was never disrespected in front of the class by a passive aggressive math teacher. I got what I needed.
I am an only child and most people assume that means that I’m automatically spoiled. While, yes, there are some differences between me and others who grew up with siblings, it didn’t mean that all my wants were met on a silver platter. I worked hard, even as a child, because I had to. Nannie was sick and then Daddy was sick, and Mama bore the weight of it all — in all of its enormity. I helped Mama with her flower business, her catering business, I waited tables in the second grade at her restaurant, and I didn’t do any of it because I wanted to; rather we needed the money. People used to joke with Mama that the child labor laws were going to get her. I knew that sports, gymnastics, dance, and all of the things that some of my counterparts were doing were simply out of the question. It didn’t scar me because I didn’t have those things. Quite frankly, I didn’t even know at the time that I was missing out on anything. The focus was different.
Mama always has a way of making memories even in the hardest of times. She knew I wanted things that perhaps she couldn’t always give me. But, she also knew that what she could give me would be far more valuable. Throughout the years, I may have lost sight of these things I hold most precious like the moments of making memories even in the worst of times. (And, many times, we even made memories in the best of times!) But, throughout it all, it’s been when life seemed to dim just a little darker that the sweetness of those things most important become so evident.
I looked around my house this morning at all of the things that I’ve collected. Each item has its purpose; whether to be functional or just decorational. I thought that I needed all of these things to get through life. Some were bought out of what I though was a necessity while others just seemed to bring me comfort. Now, in a time when life has once again up-ended itself on me, I wonder if I should just pull a big trash can out back and start chunking. I don’t want these things to get in the way of what I need to be doing right now and that is making memories, and living life. I shouldn’t be stressed out about how I balance my lack of storage with all of the things that I might need one day if certain conditions are met. I need to be in the here and now. I should have been in the here and now more than I was in the “maybe one day” as I have been the bulk of my life. The lie we tell ourselves about the day when “life slows down” is incomplete. We tell it to ourselves as a matter of comfort that one day, in the perhaps distant future, we will have achieved that arbitrary status and be able to enjoy life. As with any lie, there is such a dark side. When life slows down, or makes us slow down, it’s almost too late. Either our bodies or our minds are failing. The clock is ticking at a cautious pace and we have nothing but time to look back upon the life we constructed.
I’m thankful for all of the things in my life that have shaped me, but not the material things. I’m thankful for the time that we went to Disney World on coupons and prayers. It taught me that you don’t have to have a lot of money to still have a good time. I’m thankful for the times when my Uncle Al and Aunt Patsy would come scoop me up in the middle of the night when the ambulance had picked up my Nannie. It taught me that life is nothing without the family and friends who love us. I am thankful even for the most adverse of times when I watched my Daddy’s neck become leather-like from radiation. It taught me that strength isn’t free and sometimes it hurts getting it. I’m thankful that my Mama made me work long hours catering until my feet wanted to walk away from me. It taught me that hard work was a part of life, and that I didn’t want to cater parties for the rest of my life. These are the collection of things that we should all hold dear. These moments that have shaped us and the people who love us.
When you realize–truly realize–who and what is most important in your life, hold tight to it. Don’t let go. Love those people with every ounce of love you have in your body. Tell them, show them, and treasure them. When we are at our weakest, it will be those memories and those people who will bring us comfort. If we’re living it just right, may be also become those sources of strength for others. Take the PTO. Go on the trip. Take the phone call. Do what it takes to live in the present and collect moments. Smell the air with a renewed curiosity and walk outside barefooted. Ask yourself what defines you. Be honest with yourself. The clock is always ticking. We just need to know if we’re in tune with the clock or the collection of things.
Messpot Diaries 