![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Feb. 8th, 2004
Ever want something? Ever want something that was worth wanting? That was worth having? Ever want something so much that you found out what it would cost to have, to own, and even what it would cost not to have? And then go out and get it? And then wonder if you should have, or even regret doing so?
I don't know if my attention span is truly that poor or if I am simply that fickle, but I do this far too often to not be annoyed by it. I am often at a loss to explain why. Sometimes the explanation is easy: I spent money or time I shouldn't have in the acquisition; or I can't really afford the cost of ownership; or, while it may have been worth owning, it really doesn't fit in with me, or any of a dozen other identifiable reasons. But, then there are those times where the wanting and the having are not only not the same, they aren't even remotely similar.
It's usually at this point that I'm back to the whole "know thyself" admonition. I've never really had an adequate answer for that, even a "just for the moment" type. Sure, life is all about answering that question (along with the other Deep Thought with Significant Meaning), so there's no magic bullet, no quick fix, no 15 second sound bite that will suffice. And, like a good American, I cop-out. I ignore the question, the search for the answer, the *need* for the answer, and indeed, the need for the question to exist in the first place.
Having my house burnt-up was an eye-opener. No, I don't live there, and didn't at the time. No, I didn't loose all *my* stuff. Well, a few things, but not much. Not like my ex and my kids. However, in the last few weeks of helping them transition from living in a hotel to a house for the duration of the rebuilding, I've gotten even more detached from my stuff. The urge to unload has gotten a bit heavier. The number of things I have that I feel I really want (let alone need) drops daily. I'm ambivalent about items that I so recently treasured and enjoyed. Of course this didn't stop me from going to my insurance agent and adding some renter's insurance to my monthly levy from the financial industry. After all, that was the practical response, and my oldest son does live with me and he doesn't suffer from this possession-itis I seem to have developed.
I'd like to think--even to hope--that all of this stems from being in transition. I hate transition, I hate change. (I wrote a long, dramatic poem about change when I was in high school about my [at the time] stupid decision to break-up with my girlfriend because I was lost [and was really only in over my head and too out-of-touch to say so to her] and in remorse about having done so and hurt because she didn't want to get back together [not that I blamed her, even then] and needed to vent.)
Anyway. My lease is up in April. I will get my review at work in April. The contractor who's going to rebuild my house thinks they will have it done by the end of April. If I can convince my ex to resume the divorce mediation, then I should be divorced by the end of April as well. And just to make it that much more dramatic, I turn 39 in April.
My last year being not-an-old-man. :-O
Actually, I don't think any of that is it, but it is so much easier to look at times and events and tangible things and say, "oh yes, look, this is why" and be comforted by that. No silly having to think things through. No having to muck about with messy emotions or epiphanies or deep-seated issues. And the best part of all is that all that stuff comes and then it goes, giving this gloriously comforting false sense of security that with their departure leave my issues as well.
Yeah, like that's going to happen.
I don't know if my attention span is truly that poor or if I am simply that fickle, but I do this far too often to not be annoyed by it. I am often at a loss to explain why. Sometimes the explanation is easy: I spent money or time I shouldn't have in the acquisition; or I can't really afford the cost of ownership; or, while it may have been worth owning, it really doesn't fit in with me, or any of a dozen other identifiable reasons. But, then there are those times where the wanting and the having are not only not the same, they aren't even remotely similar.
It's usually at this point that I'm back to the whole "know thyself" admonition. I've never really had an adequate answer for that, even a "just for the moment" type. Sure, life is all about answering that question (along with the other Deep Thought with Significant Meaning), so there's no magic bullet, no quick fix, no 15 second sound bite that will suffice. And, like a good American, I cop-out. I ignore the question, the search for the answer, the *need* for the answer, and indeed, the need for the question to exist in the first place.
Having my house burnt-up was an eye-opener. No, I don't live there, and didn't at the time. No, I didn't loose all *my* stuff. Well, a few things, but not much. Not like my ex and my kids. However, in the last few weeks of helping them transition from living in a hotel to a house for the duration of the rebuilding, I've gotten even more detached from my stuff. The urge to unload has gotten a bit heavier. The number of things I have that I feel I really want (let alone need) drops daily. I'm ambivalent about items that I so recently treasured and enjoyed. Of course this didn't stop me from going to my insurance agent and adding some renter's insurance to my monthly levy from the financial industry. After all, that was the practical response, and my oldest son does live with me and he doesn't suffer from this possession-itis I seem to have developed.
I'd like to think--even to hope--that all of this stems from being in transition. I hate transition, I hate change. (I wrote a long, dramatic poem about change when I was in high school about my [at the time] stupid decision to break-up with my girlfriend because I was lost [and was really only in over my head and too out-of-touch to say so to her] and in remorse about having done so and hurt because she didn't want to get back together [not that I blamed her, even then] and needed to vent.)
Anyway. My lease is up in April. I will get my review at work in April. The contractor who's going to rebuild my house thinks they will have it done by the end of April. If I can convince my ex to resume the divorce mediation, then I should be divorced by the end of April as well. And just to make it that much more dramatic, I turn 39 in April.
My last year being not-an-old-man. :-O
Actually, I don't think any of that is it, but it is so much easier to look at times and events and tangible things and say, "oh yes, look, this is why" and be comforted by that. No silly having to think things through. No having to muck about with messy emotions or epiphanies or deep-seated issues. And the best part of all is that all that stuff comes and then it goes, giving this gloriously comforting false sense of security that with their departure leave my issues as well.
Yeah, like that's going to happen.