Maybe there is some truth in the old adage “Ain’t Nothing Like The Real Thing Baby,” at least when it comes to stuff.
Stuff as in our own personal belongings. Don’t believe me?
Try in our personal or professional lives to get by one day without a computer, cell phone, or let’s say a car.
Truthfully and yes sadly, these days we are so accustomed to having our stuff, that we “think” we don’t know what do if, we for instance do not have our stuff.
As a writer, I cannot imagine being without my computer. But stuff happens.
I get up each morning with the expectation that my trusty computer is going to work. And I have major ATTITUDE when it doesn’t.
“It’s only a few years old,” I hearing myself whining to the computer technician.
He will patiently explain the causes which is like speaking Chinese. In my mind and my world, I don’t care about explanations.
Ultimately, my main concern is “You can get it fixed when?”
One thing I don’t like is when my “stuff” breaks down, well, I’m not into sharing—I kind of learned that about myself about my stuff and other things—but that’s a whole different blog.
I so dislike being one someone else’s time clock when you have their stuff.
Then, I detest the thought, should something happens to their stuff, I’m responsible.
Yet, when our stuff breaks down, we all have to make some concessions.
Right now, I am at a work center, typing my head off.
I can stay as long as I want, yet, I feel a bit “under the gun” to get my writing blog done—for my own purposes—since I haven’t posted in a while.
Two reasons: My personal life always take top priority and then as I said at the beginning of the blog: stuff happens.
But where there’s a will; there’s a way. I guess I am using the “way” now and for that I am grateful.
In these trials when our “comfort or comfortable life” gets temporarily interrupted, it forces us to become resourceful—at least that happens to me.
When my cell phone not working, it’ll force me to have real conversations—even with my family in the house.
Oftentimes, what occurs in my house is that we’re all texting one another to the point of exhaustion, instead of just stopping to talk.
Text: Mom, can I see you for a minute.
Response: Can it wait? I’m busy now!
Text: Not really. I have to talk to you about school information.
Response: What specifically?
Text: I received this e-mail from the school and it says……
Rewind: This is a conversation that requires real conversation. Most times, after so many texts—which may be a ploy in the first place—I will stop and address my family member in person.
And then I think to myself: Wow! How did we even survive before without cell phones? Or multiple cars? Or the convenience computers?
All these things makes me and those around me feel crippled if we don’t have access.
Recently, I read an article online where parents actually banned the use of technology devices and no television including games and Netflix for two whole weeks—that included the parents also participating in this “experiment.”
For the first few days, there was a lot of tension in the house. Naturally, the two children ages 11 and 15 were grumbling and feeling like their parents were being “unreasonable.”
However, the parents never wavered. They showed their children the meaning of other forms of entertainment such as reading, playing board games, walking the family dog, sitting down and having “uninterrupted” family conversations and engaging in family projects.
The mother said “It gave me an opportunity to really connect with my children on so-many levels instead of my children using their cellphones to avoid conversation or hiding behind the computer.”
And it made the family realize how they could function—and function—quite well without their stuff.
I sometimes feel out of sorts when my car is being repaired and then I think: “Okay, this is an opportunity for me to stay put and get some things done around the house or the fact, that I can still function because I can—and do-walk to the store.”
So, I asked friends to “check me” the next time I get to complaining about my stuff and really think about my blessings: I truly CAN function–with or without– my “perceived” stuff.
What was I thinking?