My six year-old son is obsessed with toys. He is constantly browsing the Toys 'R Us catalog like it's the Wall Street Journal and pointing out the latest and greatest in plastic crap that Cartoon Network is pushing during commercials in between Ben 10 episodes. It feels like the kid is constantly asking for something - even if it was just Christmas, his birthday, etc. My big parenting line to him is that "want just creates more want". The more you want things the longer the list of stuff you want gets and the more consumed by the want you become. Eventually the wanting gets so big that it can never really be satisfied, the more material things we get the more we're holding our breath and waiting for the next thing that will finally feed the hungry want monster...except the monster is never full.
This is, of course, a difficult concept to explain to a 6 year old boy. He's actually become very good about not constantly asking me for more stuff and now just goes straight to the source...his grandparents. This post isn't about my son or his wanting however, it's really about mine. I've noticed something about myself in my adult years - I'm becoming very aware of the passing of time and just how long it takes for my husband and I to finally get the things we want. We're always putting the "practical" things we need like water neutralizers and well pumps before the stuff we'd really love to have...like granite counter tops in the kitchen. The new Lexus RX330 I promised myself I would drive before the age of 30 seems maaaaany moons away from the 2003 Toyota with 147,000 miles I'm currently sporting.
I find myself reflecting on the past few years and making a mental checklist of the things we have acquired and the improvements we have made to the home. It's amazing to think about how much we have done in such a short time, yet the list of things yet to be done is still so long. Every room I walk into whispers the things it is missing to me. My daughters bedroom windows that date back to 1837 whistle the cold winter air to me as I put her to sleep each night. She drifts off to sleep thinking about My Little Pony while I lay next to her wishing we had the money to replace every window in the house. There are stained carpets that need to be replaced, light fixtures that are fire hazards and bathrooms that are "charming" which is antique-home-code for "old and out of date".
I start crunching numbers in my mind. I start looking online for ideas. I start calling contractors for quotes. I start wondering what our Christmas bonus and tax returns will look like this year. I question if the money we put in will ever be returned to us when we eventually sell the house and then I realize that enough is ENOUGH. When is it ever going to be enough? How old will I be on the day I finally walk around our home and realize I have done all the things I ever wanted to do? Something tells me the kids will be gone, the house will be quiet and boring and the new granite counter tops will bring me a very limited amount of joy and satisfaction.
When that day comes I will likely look back on this time in our home with a different kind of want. I'll want the kids to come home for more family dinners. I'll want to spend more time talking to them on the phone, and I'll want to be young enough to enjoy the things together as a family that we are able to enjoy today. So I try to quiet the wanting. I try to remind myself that replacement windows will lead to new carpeting, which will lead to new counter tops which will lead to new tile in the mudroom, etc. All of those things will happen and a new car will come and go and none of it will ever satisfy the wanting.
The only thing that can satisfy the want is appreciation for what I already have. Taking the focus off what hasn't been done or what's missing and putting the focus on what's already there is the only way to shut the want off. I don't like resolutions, but if I had one for 2013 it would be to lock the want monster in a closet with wrist shackles and duct tape over it's mouth. I am going to put my American-bred consumerism-worshiping ass in check this year and see how it feels to not always be waiting for the next big purchase. When I walk into a room and hear the whispers of things it is missing I'm going to ignore it, and listen only to the voices of the people in it that aren't.
