How could there be any question of acquiring or possessing, when the one thing needful for a man is to become -- to be at last, and to die in the fullness of his being. —Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
This morning I found an alien in my house. I am sure that this alien was a scout sent out on a mission to see if the conditions were ripe for an impending invasion. I quickly grabbed a cloaking device (paper towel) and threw it on him, and sent him out to the outer darkness of a loaded trash bag. All the while I was performing this death defying act I was screaming, and my faithful watch dog Max meandered over to see what was going on. The expression his face was "priceless". He didn't offer any back up and went back to his nap.
Now,granted this was a 0500 this morning and I realized at that moment that my house was a hot mess. I proceeded to do a pre-emptive strike on the most offensive of areas, the refrigerator, the living room floor (I had to quell a massive invasion of fur balls (from said faithful mutt), a trash heap and the dining room table,that sometimes doubles as a recycling center. I was starting to feel good about myself until I realized that I was supposed to do this last evening. Somehow I wound up face first asleep on the couch at 10:00 pm.
When I look around my house/home I see lots of clutter,lots of mess,lots of possessions,clothing,shoes,etc. The only beings living here are myself, my husband and a dog. Who else is living here? Who keeps bringing this stuff in? Now I don't have the energy to go into a psychological disertation of the relationship of man and stuff.
But, I do know the spiritual aspects of stuff, the need verses the want, the greed, the sloth, the black hole we all try to fill in our spirits.