As I was padding around the kitchen this morning at 5:30am getting everything ready for the day, I was thinking about something I’d purchased for myself yesterday and something I purchased for myself last week that arrived yesterday. Neither of these were impulse buys and they could both be considered heirloom quality items suitable for passing on to my children. For each of the purchases, they just felt right. Each item was just one little right thing.
As I thought, I had an immediate sparklet:
One little right thing
can make the
Heart sing
Bring the thing
that can help you
S
W
I
N
G
From this moment to the next
To feather your nest
Or feather yourself
To put on a shelf
In the back of your mind
The thoughts that bite
You know something’s not right
Because sight is
C U T
short.
I was initially thinking about how excited I was about each item. They were sentimental and practical purchases. They were by no means necessities. While they were meaningful and will be well-loved and well-used; they were also retail therapy. As with so many other purchases for me, anything that falls outside of the required food, clothing, and shelter while also falling into the retail therapy category can bring pangs of guilt. I do not know from whence these pangs originate. Something from family life? Society? Social groups?
Who knows?
Looking back at my sparklet, I can see the moment I allowed this guilt to give the poem a hard left turn to biting thoughts, feelings of wrongness, and the end of a vision. I’m not interested in feeling guilty about things like that anymore. I’m a mom. I don’t want to model that for my kiddlows. I wouldn’t let it slide if a friend shared similar feelings. I’d as questions like this:
Are you in debt? Can you not afford what you bought?
Is your spending negatively impacting you, your family, your livelihood?
Are you able to be generous in all the other ways you want to be?
Were your purchases thoughtful?
I’m interested in actually living life rather than just skating from one negative obligatory feeling to the next with a sprinkling of good feelings in between. Life’s too short. I don’t want that for my family or my friends. I don’t want that for me.
I don’t want that for you.
Sparks 