Having enough…

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]I realise that if you are reading this it might sound like “That’s it – I’ve had enough. I am fed up.” Taking my bat and ball (actually, if anyone is reading this who knows about my sporting prowess (Em? You there?) you’ll know that I wouldn’t have had a bat and ball at all. Maybe a book and some knitting?) and going home. But it’s not that at all. It’s about stuff. As in possessions.

The house across the road from me in Sydney was auctioned for an outrageous amount of money the other day – and it still wasn’t seen as enough. I hear about friends of mine working all week, and then coming home to ‘do the garden’ or renovate some room or another. I watch ABC’s ‘War on Waste‘ with interest. I talk to people who are ‘decluttering’ all the time.

How did we get to need so much stuff? And why do we need these enormous houses? Or perfect houses? Or multiple houses (ahem, politicians?) Or huge cars?

I was sitting thinking the other day, whilst staring out the window (I read about this the other day. You can also see a lovely little video about it here. I’ve tried to do it more since reading about it.). And I think I have enough. What would I do if I had more money? You know, I’d probably give it away. I’d probably give it to the ACMF, so that more kids could have music in their lives. I really believe in that.

You see, I have a beautiful cello. I have excellent clothes that I love wearing. I have a tablet that I can watch my Netflix subscription on. I have an excellent little car that I share with my husband. I have a bike that goes as fast as I can pedal it. I have a really wonderful relationship (none of this is in order, by the way!). I drink really good leaf tea, and nice wine whenever I want it. I drink French champagne often. I have a job and a concert series that I love with all of my heart. I go to yoga a lot, and can afford to have really good teachers guide me. I don’t own a house. I don’t want to endlessly renovate. I don’t want to be mortgaged to the hilt and worry about things all the time. (OK – I don’t have children I need to get through school – but that has also been a very deliberate choice.) In one of my staring-out-the-window musings I realised that I was happy. I have an excellent, loving partner. I have a job I love. I have a wonderful group of friends who are loyal, and loving, and tolerant (yes – I know. They’d need to be around me. And Ben will be nominated for sainthood at some point).

And I have enough. Probably more than enough. It’s pretty liberating to feel like this.

I thank my Timorese friends for showing me this. Mostly.

Will it always be like this? Who knows? But now it is.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]