| Sunny Side Up! May 2,2001 � 2001 by Kathleen Gibson Deliberate Simplicity Only Beverly�s bottom half is visible. She�s on her knees, her head and upper body deep inside a kitchen cupboard, and she�s flinging things. �Mom.� Her son ducks a piece of Tupperware. �You�re becoming addicted to space!� She grunts agreement, fires another missile. It falls just short of the box labeled �Garage Sale.� I�m shedding too�sifting through extra baggage. When my sale is over, I�ll count my best profit to be a lovely sensation of lightness. There�ll be empty corners in my cupboards. My closets won�t attack when opened. And I really wonder how the garage will look with the car in it. A jay sat outside my window, lecturing. The peanut tray was empty. I filled it and watched the frenetic flash of cobalt blue as he transported every last nut to crevices in his favorite trees. Then he was back, scolding again. I chuckled, but watching him reminded me that we Homo Sapiens have similar habits. Only our �peanuts� beg maintenance, come with payment plans, insist on the latest upgrade, waste precious space and time. Our hoarding habits clog our energy channels, drain our reservoir of peace. The things we possess ultimately possess us, if we let them. An elusive deception clings to the shoulders of consumerism. It brandishes a whip of tightly braided wishes and peer expectations. �You are only as valuable as the things you own, only as noteworthy as the labels you wear,� shout the billboards, TV ads and store flyers. Too often, we think little enough of ourselves to believe them. Catch it before it catches you. We are NOT what we own. There is a richness that only deliberate simplicity can bring. By shedding much of the �stuff� that makes us appear wealthy in the eyes of the world, we become richer instead of poorer. Billy Graham said of Mother Theresa: �She took a vow of poverty and became fabulously rich.� I�ll never be a Mother Theresa, but there are certain attitudes and actions I aspire to that help me in my quest to seek after the truly important in life. I attempt to collect more people than things, more memories than stuff. I�m learning to invest time and money in ways that will bring eternal dividends. When shopping for other than food, I search out things that will have use or meaning for a long time. Often I make instead of buy, buy second-hand, or just do without. Most importantly, with every graveyard I pass I make a mental note that my stuff can�t go with me there. There was a plaque hanging in my parent�s bedroom when I was a child. It made a deep impression. ONLY ONE LIFE, �TWILL SOON BE PAST, ONLY WHAT�S DONE FOR CHRIST WILL LAST. Sometimes I�ve been blinded by the temporary pleasure of hunting for and owning better �stuff�, but that plaque�s hanging in my heart now, and it keeps calling me back. I am richer for its presence. More importantly, so are others. You can respond to this column at [email protected] or by contacting this paper directly. |