Want It, Need It, Have to Have It
Normally, I try to stay away from overt materialism just as I try to stay away from doughnuts (don’t like ‘em anyway), too much caffeine (I’m naturally kinda speedy, though I suppose it might have a Ritalin effect) and having sex with man who aren’t my husband. I’m kidding of course, honey, if you’re reading this.
The thing is, most materialism is great for about five minutes, or four days, and then you get a sickly sweet toothache, as if you’ve eaten all the cotton candy at the fair, plus a few funnel cakes for good measure. It just kind of sucks. No wonder a lot of rich people have that bored look on their faces. They can afford anything, and enjoy nothing.
The only exception I make is nature. I can get a lady boner for nature like nobody’s business, and today I wasn’t having a regular trip to the gym. I wanted nature, even if it was gray and nasty looking outside, even if it rained. So I got my husband into it, away from his normal weight lifting routine, and we headed up a pretty steep hill in a nearby nature preserve. It should be said that I am still geting over a cold, so my lungs aren’t what they could be, but we had a great time. We got sprinkled on a little and talked a lot and even though my lungs were burning for a lot of it, I was really glad I went, and we missed most of the rain.
But that part of me that has to have things at all costs, even something slightly less harmful, like nature — that part I had to look into. So I sat with that feeling, of always feeling like I had to have more, even if it was more nature. I saw that it began in the lower part of my body, then moved up to my torso, heart and throat. I saw that it was fiery in nature, kind of red and consuming. Though it felt energetic, it was still like something eating up all the brush on a hill, using it as fuel, and that wasn’t going to work. So I brought forward a series of images of nature in my mind. One after the other, I spent some time with them, allowing myself to lose time in their beauty and taking as long as I liked with each one.
After a few minutes, the consuming, fiery feeling went out. My breathing felt deeper and I was less anxious. My addiction, albeit to something as healing as trees, air and water, felt a little less strong, and I was able to go about the rest of my day thinking about how to add more nature to my daily life — a window garden perhaps, or some beautiful photographs I bought in Hawaii. There, those should do the trick.
