Desires. I am trying to sift through my desires. They propel and create my reality. My wants separated from my needs. In the past, when I get what I want, I have not been happy. This has included when I get the nice clothes, when I get a better job, when I get a dog, when I can finally travel, when I get a car, when there is more money in my account, when I can pay off my debt, when I am in good shape, when I have someone who loves me… then I will be happy. Thus far, not the case. My day dreams take me somewhere else; make me focus on the next thing that will supposedly allow my happiness to blossom. Things accumulate; objects take up space, more to manage when there is very little that I actually need. When you get the next thing, there is just more to follow, an ache that consumes until it is placated. Thinking of my daily activities, how much time I spend on my phone looking at things that other people have, reading things that other people say about what I should have. It takes a toll. Acknowledging the problem is key. The desires do not make me. I am not more complete once I have attained the many assets, the lists of maybe after this thing, or when I have that set up. I am trying to really listen to myself and where I am coming from. What angle I am playing, the external brought internal and I am allowing myself to be led by the external world. I am both creator and the creations. My time has been spent running around scooping up the creations, somehow believing that they have been made by someone else. That I could never hope to achieve that level of greatness, as if creating an object is a symbol of greatness. My beliefs are deeply rooted, tangled up in the core that I assign possession over when it is just another part of an ensemble, a clunky suit of roles, getting heavier and heavier.
My desires include mostly things that I believe will change “my opinion” of myself. After all, I am the one that I spend the most time around. Who else is there to impress? Yet my opinion only gets worse as the desires flood in, and they all will come back to me at some point. The truth is that we get what we want, or what we thought we wanted. The kernel of intention that got lost somewhere in there doesn’t always come through like we had anticipated. There is a lot of fluff, organic matter, metal and wood, the elements of the earth but the air of beauty, that sunshine that we imagined, doesn’t come with it. The reason being that it was never lacking. The desires act as veils, thicker and thicker, layering over what is always there. The blanket that hides the sun.
If I don’t accept that I am in prison, I will never work to get myself out. Desires are the building blocks of my prison, the stories I tell myself daily about objects, scenarios, places, people, and they blind me to the real value in life. The enjoyment found in simplicity, in narrowing down, letting go of the abundance of “stuff” in order to embrace the abundance of spirit. To stop chasing the creations and become the creator.