Stuff

There is a monster in me that consumes. 

I don't mean to sound overly dramatic.

I don't want to shed all my earthly possessions.

I want to buy a new dress for a date, or new shoes for a trip.

I love fashion. I love beautiful things. 

I love fancy restaurants, and in fact, I've been inviting my parents out to dinner for my birthday since I was 6 years, to restaurants with white table clothes, of course. 

This monster I speak of. It isn't that.

It isn't pretty clothes or beautiful vacations. It's not a glass or two of wine out with girlfriends or an overly priced concert ticket.

It is my inability, or even refusal, for moderation.

It's buying a new lotion when I have half a bottle in my bathroom.

It's the 4 Burt's bees chapsticks I found on this trip to Haiti.

It's something in me that isn't full.

Here in Haiti,

Having stuffed as much of this 'fullness' into two bags and a back pack, paid an overweight baggage fee for one bag, and suffered through a layover, customs, and immigration with these so called material necessities, I have to ask myself.

What are they really.

A burden.

To need things, it's a burden.

Not to want them. To want an Easter dress. To enjoy a new pair of jeans. To be really happy wearing some new earrings to match a new hairstyle. 

That's some of the joy of life. And especially of being a 27 year old woman.

But to need them. To feel a sense of urgency. Of demand.

To be in Haiti, with all these things that I need.

And to realize, once more,

That those things aren't what I needed,

And I am not full because I've brought two overpacked suitcases here. 

I think to myself, I'm glad I'm not full of those things.

Because then there wouldn't be room for the stuff I really need.