Driven often by wants and material things, eyes lit by the lure of the new and stylish, I have been conscious of this aspect of my humanity for a long time.
It lies dormant, content, when my focus is as it should be.
But, at times I am more vulnerable to comparison, and want; or if I spend time around those whose attention seeks constantly the latest and greatest, I find myself longing for more.
Something I try reign in quickly. Remind myself of the clutter that already makes me squirm, and the stuff that stuffs us up full but really only leaves us empty.
So I stroll the garden, and I cut olive branches, or rosemary and wrap twine or arrange in bottles or jars.
I rearrange and bring outside in, and breathe prayers of thanks for the little things.
I most certainly am blessed to have beautiful things, but refuse to let things define my worth, or my feeling of contentment.
I am flying to Cambodia in just a few short weeks.
I'm sure my perspective of stuff in the face of poverty will only be solidified.