It started out being that i wanted to own my own house, but i’m not really sure that that’s what i want. Some people don’t eat animals because they respect their right to be non-foods, some people don’t want to be under somebody else’s thumb, and, thusly, choose not to be “owned,” and i just feel that “owning” anything is not very likely to work out very well. It’s all like beer, really, one never buys it, only rents it for a while, and down the drain it goes. Believe me, i used to “sell” it.
So i got to thinking about what’s really important to me… and always i come up with the same damned thing: be independent. i shoulda added that to my 43 things, but they don’t allow you to choose to be anything, but, rather, to do something… which really isn’t the same thing. So… to refocus… independence has always been at the top of my priorities and, thus, i’ve had to be careful about my choices, as many of them seems to tie me down more than they set me free. On a distant meditation i chose to go into the water – into the ocean actually – as it is one of my favorite environments, and so i plunged my psychic self into the cool waters and started to “sink.” It soon struck me that if i were going to have a good experience i’d have to make sure i’d be safe in the waters i’d chosen, so it became necessary not to be afraid… of a whole lotta things… and finally it came down to the water itself (it’s not a great medium for human survival, especially within it), and, so, eventually i had to allow the water into the whole lot of me and be ok with the thought of having the water enter every part of me, including my lungs (long may they live), and then… after a little bit of self convincing, to see myself surviving the near-drowning experience that ensued.
i survived that harrowing attempt – mostly by staying out of the waters i love so much – but you start to understand the dichotomy inherent to just about every choice that is made. i know i do… so! Back to that darned space thingy.
So in trying to define for myself how i’d get to own a house, and, indeed, if i even wanted to own anything like it, i had to answer the burning question that had to do with how i would accomplish that goal. For one, i thought, i’d need to wherewithall to do it, or the Moolah, the Dough, the Cold Hard Cash, to put it bluntly, and since i’m not a person to whom such earthly things flow too easily, i found myself at somewhat of a puzzling crossroad of sorts. Do i, all of a sudden, make making money a goal, or do i stick with my old self of making whatever with whatever, and finding the beauty in just that?
So really man, what is this thing about money that you’ve got? Is it really real, or does it have more to do with how one makes money to begin with? In other words, is money the core issue, or is it the “making it,” that is really at odds with…? And i thought to myself… Hmmm, now there’s a good question,” and i know, as i write this, that i will have to dig deeper and figure out more about this question… and i hope to get at it in further rants… i say this, as life has just hurled another one of those “gotta go do that” somethings at me, and… well… i gotta go do it.
So real quick, just for the sake of completing that nagging wish that started this whole 26th or 28th thing perhaps, and all the rantings associated with getting it done, let me just say that that’s the reason i’m not yet quite settled on which one i want to have… a house or just a space somewhere, and if it’s going to be a space, what will it look like, feel like, etc., etc… i mean, if it’s going to be a snake, as the saying goes, i’d rather not get bit. Yikes!
