I’m fortunate enough to have “possessions” that some might envy (even my younger self)… things that I’ve acquired along the way. I’ve got a relatively new car that runs pretty well. Relatively new, meaning 7 years old. Pretty well, meaning I take it in for regular maintenance and the entire right side has been replaced due to the poor parking and driving skills of Los Angelenos. But it gets me where I need to go. I’ve got computer type gadgets, mostly old, but that run well enough. Well enough, meaning I get gnarly error messages on my desktop that probably mean something important, but if I click the red “X” on the annoying box, it goes away and I can still write a blog post. I’ve got two televisions, one around 10 years old, the other older, neither with cable. But I can still find entertainment on their screens. I have Apple products, not the latest or greatest, but they work and satisfy my need for information at my fingertips. I have a closet full of clothes to wear. Some a bit too small, others a bit tattered, but more than I need. I have a warm bed in which to sleep, complete with sheets that make me feel like I’m staying at the Four Seasons when I lay my tired body down upon them. It’s the most luxurious bed I have ever owned and to me represents autonomy, because I bought it after my ex and I separated and I slept in it alone, happily, for months after we split. All of these are things that are appreciated, things that I am grateful for, but none really more prized than the other. I think I feel this way because if something were to happen to any of them, with minimal thought and the click of a button, they can be replaced. Not that they wouldn’t be costly, because altogether and separately they would be, but because money is energy and in general I try not to operate from a place of lack.
More important than those particular material things, I have the fundamentals covered. A solid roof and walls protect me and those I love. It makes a lot of noise, but our refrigerator still manages to give me filtered water. And if that were to go, there’s still the tap. There is food on our table, mostly healthy, mostly tasty. If something were to happen to any of those basic things, though it would be harder than walking into a store and telling the man in the blue polo exactly what I want, I could find alternatives for them all. They might not be exactly what I had or what I want, but they would still be.
Even more precious to me, I have a sassy, smart, beautiful and healthy child. A passionate, tender, loving, supportive partner. Sometimes they will sparkle, sometimes they make music, sometimes they soothe, sometimes they are tangy, and they always keep me on my toes. But neither are my possessions — just beautifully packaged gifts from the Universe that I get to unwrap every day, just a little bit.
Of all the things I possess and don’t, the item I hold in highest esteem is my heart. It is my physical core, my emotional core, my spiritual core. Without it, there are so many things I could not do. I could not exist here on this particular Earth. I suppose if we were being technical (or medical) about things, that it could be replaced, but I don’t live very deeply in that world.
If I didn’t have a heart that beat, I wouldn’t be able to walk on the sand, run on the pavement, or dance in my living room.
If I didn’t have a heart that beat, I wouldn’t be able to feel, to empathize, to appreciate, to love. If I didn’t have a heart that beat, I wouldn’t be able to be appreciated, or be loved.
If I didn’t have my heart, I wouldn’t be passionate about teaching, writing, wanting to make a difference, wanting to help people fulfill their potential.
If I didn’t have my heart, I wouldn’t be me.
*Prompt: Tell us the story of your most-prized possession. Today’s twist: We extolled the virtues of brevity back on day five, but now, let’s jump to the other side of the spectrum and turn to long form writing. Let’s celebrate the drawn-out, slowly cooked, wide-shot narrative.