How fragile
is our comfort. Maybe my mom is right after all and we should always be
prepared for the worst: train our bodies for deprivation, be used to the prolonged
feeling of hunger, to the absence of basic necessities. It should always be in
the back of our minds that many of the luxuries we have and frequently take for
granted can vanish in a blink of an eye.
We depend on
our possessions and only losing them makes it clear that we are incapable of
finding comfort elsewhere. We need our things to be happy. We each build a
small private universe around our possessions and as we see them go, we can't
help the feeling of being sucked into a black hole. Kids are so different from
us in that sense. They can still be overpowered by joy even under the worst of
circumstances. Kids can spot and enjoy countless things of interest even
in the deteriorated reality; they will invent a fun game and play it among the
rubble.
So how do we
adjust to the feeling of loss, to unexpected hardships and unplanned turns of
events? Should we try to restore normalcy at all costs, get things to the way
they were so that we could blissfully forget the dire times and move on? Or
maybe it's wise to dwell on the experience, to seek some deeper meaning and
adjust the mindset so that it could encompass these new unfortunate possibilities.
Appreciate what we have, but above all appreciate life and value things that
aren't as easy to lose: our body in good health and working condition, our head
that has enough knowledge to find a way out of any situation and our heart,
that finds joy where we didn't look before, too busy multiplying and holding on to our possessions.
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