Pwning

I pwn your arse.

Charming.

But there it is in everyday triple double U speak.

Today, walking through a fancier part of my suburb than I live in, I saw fancier houses, cars, curtains, garden furniture and street trees than I have.

I admired these things, which were on the whole lovely, as things go, then felt weighed down by some serious covetting. I wanted OWNERSHIP.

What’s with that? Why covet the stuff? Why not enjoy the view of some nice curtains even though I don’t own them. The design is as lovely for me, walking past as it would be if I was sitting inside that house looking at them. Except I would probably stop noticing them after a while, if I saw them everyday. Normalcy this is called by those positive psychology folks. We just get used to whatever’s going on. Also explains why the longer you leave the washing up, the less it bothers you.

Our kids covet. Man do they want stuff. When they get stuff, they no longer want said stuff. So couldn’tgiveaproverbialrat’sarse in fact, they might abandon the stuff in the car after the trip home from shop.

Where does it come from? This need to own? And why do we do it, when it’s so blatantly unfulfilling? I can admire a car on the street as much as the owner. And maybe see about as much of it. How much time does someone spend looking at their car? (The reasonable Australian sort of person, obviously carlovers dance to their own hoopydoo seventeen eight drumming. )

What about the unownable? Do I watch a sunset and feel sad that it’s not mine? Here’s a funny thing – recently went to the BEAUTIFUL Mount Lofty National Park. Solitary walk. The kind of place people make into jigsaws. I couldn’t bear it. Got there. Closed my eyes.

I would like to recover from this ownership issue. It’s interfering with my fledling abundant outlook.

My brain remains scrambled after birthing that music book. What the hell was I thinking?

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Pwning

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