Often I have the overwhelming desire to be better. "Better at what?" you might ask. Everything. An excellent chef, a kinder person, a tidier house, a more generous philanthropist, a brilliant writer, a fiddle player, a care-free attitude, a kick-ass rock climber, and damn smart. And instead of doing these things I end up making lists of what I need to do this week, because I can check those things off, and they take less time than becoming an expert at, really, anything. Lately I've begun to realize I'm on a time crunch since I am about a third of my way through life if I happen to have a long life, and about three thirds through if I die tomorrow. So this begs the question, what am I doing with my time, and what are the things that I will choose to excel at in the time that I have here in this world?
Material possessions are ephemeral and yet I am constantly spending (read wasting) time and money cleaning, organizing, and/or moving them. I have this sense that if I could move to the middle of nowhere, build an organic farm, and live off the land I would also become a delightful, relaxed sage who is excellent at cooking gourmet meals for the poor in my spotless yurt while playing the fiddle, discovering the cure for cancer, and conquering El Capitan. And what is to stop me from doing this very thing? Money, or the fear of poverty. I'm not sure which. Probably both. I have to be able to afford to be poor. Silly, I know, but who would pay the property taxes on the aforementioned organic farm? And who would pay the farmers, because you know I don't like weeding all that much and I'll be busy on my Pulitzer prize-winning book tour.
I'm suddenly reminded of that scene in Office Space:
Peter is asked what he would do if he had a million dollars. His response is: I would relax, I would sit on my ass all day, I would do nothing. To which Lawrence replies: Well you don't need a million dollars to do nothing, man. Just take a look at my cousin. He's broke, don't do s**t.
Sometimes I wish I had the guts to risk being broke. Turns out I need to be better at liking poverty too. I'll add that one to the list. The thing is, one of the reasons I am so married to my job is my health insurance (don't worry, I'm not educated enough on the issues to use this blog as a political platform). It just feels like something I absolutely need unless I am independently wealthy. I also live pretty comfortably right now. I don't have to worry about having enough to eat (and I don't have to eat Top Ramen), and I can afford to travel. I like that. On the other hand I also know I have more than I really need.
My need for insurance is the same as my need for assurances in life. I'm not a fly by the seat of your pants kind of girl. My g-calendar is booked through the end of September and I'm already planning out a vacation next June. I'm married to structure and order. It's a strength and a weakness. Well planned things usually go off well. My organic farm would run like clockwork. I just need someone to fund the purchase, or tell me its okay to move to Texas or Michigan where I could actually afford property. Also if we could move the Pacific Ocean, my friends, and my family there as well, that'd be greeeeat. So anyone want to go halvsies on a commune in Oregon? I'm serious.
Okay, back to work for me. I gots bills to pay...
P.S. I think its funny that spell check suggested pelvises for "halvsies".