It's so easy to get your wings clipped here in America - I know this because I'm feeling the shears against my own feathertips. My friend Grace says that we "live in America off of credit" and this is true. When it's so easy to buy something with money we dont have, it's no wonder we say to ourselves "why not?"
But there's something much bigger at play here - bigger than just a simple spending problem. In our hearts, we have this vast empty space - a vacuumed emptiness constantly eating away at our content.
But this emptiness isn't a monster, it's a tune. It's a rhythm that we march to, dictating every step we take in life - every credit charge, every loan, every purchase.
I love the feeling of buying something new. There's something awesome about putting on a fresh new pair of jeans, setting up a new phone, or tuning up a new drumset. And the bigger the toy, the greater the joy. There's a certain car that I've set my eyes on recently. "Why not?" I asked myself, "I can afford it." I often imagine myself in it, cruising down the street in its pearly metallic frame - fully-loaded, fully bad-assed. My current car is what most people might call a major bag of suck - a double salvage title '02 Hyundai Accent (yeah, I know. Hyundai.). It hurts to look at its unpainted after-market bumper and dangling driver's side fender. It feels so wrong whenever I have to crank down my janky window or sheepishly ask the passenger to manually lock the door. like breaking a man-law. But at the end of the day, she is faithful in getting me from point A to point B. no major mechanical problems, just ugly as hell. Maybe this whole car thing is just my inner man crying out for a sick set of wheels.
Or maybe it's a hungry heart, crying out to be filled.
Professor says that consumerism is a mainstream trend in America. Appropriately named, we "consume" valuable goods to assimilate their worth, making them our own. We sign the multi-million dollar mortgages, sign up for more credit cards than we can handle, and fill our homes with more and more stuff - because of our fascination with the novelty of owning something valuble. We accept this habit because it's "necessary." We need to feel good. We need something to make the desire inside go away. But this story ends sadly - we become consumed by our own products. And pretty soon, our financial commitments to our lenders become ball and chain; Wing-clipped, empty-hearted bluebirds singing swan songs.
Not all the sex, money, nor achievements in all the world could fill the gaping hole in our heart. After all, its a hole in the HEART, not in the pocket.
As kids, we were given a few bucks to steward wisely. Not much as changed since then. Just the number of zeroes behind the paycheck. I remember posing for pictures as a child with my mushroom-top and gap-toothed smile as I stretched out a two-dollar bill in the air. But it wasn't the money that made me smile. It was my Dad standing proudly behind the camera.
With that, I leave you with one of the few profound and reliable statements I've written when I was a 16-year-old looking forward. His wisdom will be of much use to me.
"I believe the chief desire of every man is to be loved unconditionally, and after my long search, I have only found it within God who offers it freely and readily to those who will love him in return."
Stay young, give much, live FREE.
BJP
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