Sharon Kennedy: Know when you’ve had enough
We humans tend to be a gluttonous lot. I’m not talking about overeating, but about all the stuff we cram into our life. We’re rarely satisfied. We hunger and thirst for more. It doesn’t matter what the “more” might be. We want it. Our kitchen cupboards and drawers are filled with items we probably never use. The rods and shelves in our clothes closets sag due to an overabundance of shirts, jeans, dresses, jackets, hoodies, skirts and heaven knows what else. We see something advertised and race to the nearest store or computer and order it.
Why? Why are we so consumed with consumerism? What vast hole in our life are we trying to fill? Why is enough never enough? Why do we hunt the same stores in a chase after something we can’t name but know we can’t live without? What’s in our nature that gives us no peace, but demands immediate attention and momentary fulfillment? Would an anthropologist suggest our desire to continue an endless search for the unobtainable is a result of our genesis? Did we inherit an odd gene from the primates that forces us to seek refuge in shopping?
In college — that useless place where we liberal arts students learned about art and literature and lots of other stupid things — I was more interested in Greek and Roman mythology than anthropology. Not once did I take a class that dug up and into the past of humanoids. No walls of Jericho for me. No King Tut’s tomb. No Jane Goodall and her chimps. I was interested in the arts, not something practical that might explain man’s insatiable appetite to conquer, collect and collect more.
Call me thick as a wooden plank, but it’s a mystery to me why we’re never satisfied with what we have. In our pursuit of happiness, many folks have drifted into a twilight zone of excessive ownership. It’s not a question of “keeping up with the Joneses.” It’s more a point of outdoing them regardless of the cost. Whether it’s a house, a vehicle or expensive electronic equipment, we want the most current on the market. Who are we trying to impress and why? These are rhetorical questions with no answers.
My storehouse of chattel is getting smaller with the passing of each year. Lately I’ve been giving away stuff and selling a few items that are brand new. When I was younger, I suppose my attitude was different. My collection of teapots and china cups with matching saucers was legendary among my Detroit friends. They thought it amusing, probably because I rarely hosted a dinner party and if I did, delicate bone china cups would have been a source of laughter to male guests.
When I look at my modest surroundings, I think I’m fortunate to have faucets with hot and cold water available at the turn of a tap. Unless there’s a storm, electricity is only a flip of the switch away. My white refrigerator keeps things cold. My white stove heats or bakes food. The old recliner I share with my feline friend is shabby but comfortable. I own so little in the eyes of society, yet I lack for nothing when seen through my eyes.
So when is enough, enough? A person content with very little is someone aware that emptiness of the soul is never filled by ownership of things. Often it takes a lifetime to learn that simple lesson and enjoy the freedom it brings.
— To contact Sharon Kennedy, send her an email at authorsharonkennedy.com. Kennedy's new book, "View from the SideRoad: A Collection of Upper Peninsula Stories," is available from her or Amazon.
This article originally appeared on The Holland Sentinel: Sharon Kennedy: Know when you’ve had enough
