Happy wtih what you have.

I often have these moments of fleeting revelation. One moment, I am sitting behind my screen, staring off into the depths of some digital reality. The next moment, I am non-dramatically hit with the desire to write down some simple thought that's crept into the spotlight of my consciousness. I was, like I often do, yearning after some imaginary future not but a few minutes (which will soon pass into hours, days, years...) ago. I thought to myself; "Now, why can't I just have that?" Because it belonged to somebody else, I suppose you could call this coveting. (I never really got the coveting thing until recently, so the concept fascinates me) So here I am coveting; in this case it was an alternate reality. Most of the time it's something petty and tangible, like some gadget off of one of those gadgety websites. No, this time it was an alternative to the life that I have been so blessed with; a hip, deep, artsy life. Full of character, completely multi-faceted, cute, intellectual, dynamic, full of hip cool people who cared about what I had to say about the world. Cared about what I did when I woke up, what I ate for breakfast (at least once and a while, when it's something interesting -- like, say, bananas in orange juice).

And then it occurred to me; I have such a life. There are a select few people in my life who really do care what I eat for breakfast sometimes, and I care what they eat too, in a silly way. They read my status updates, peruse my non-hidden art blog, ask me what's going on, and show me all sorts of neat things. I've got a gentleman friend who is, as us artsy types call ourselves, a "creative." Who respects and appreciates me no less, and I him. I've got an interesting enough wardrobe, and neat kitschy things. I have a quirky sense of humor, fatal emotional flaws that can be destructive yet endearing. I've got lots of art supplies, and lots of art made by said art supplies. I have a digital life, a professional life, a creative life, a love life, and a vivid and mystical spiritual life. I have interests and talents, a warm and curiously eccentric family. I have problems. I get to ponder the meaning of life! I get to struggle with adulthood, with failure, with decision making, with the question of purpose.

So where does the coveting come from? Am I the reincarnated spirit of not so long-gone shorts of Monty Python's Flying Circus where the guy says, "And now, for something completely different...?" Is it as simple as "The grass is greener on the other side?" If so, how silly. Don't you think? How can one be happy but still long for more? It's absurd. I guess they call that "greed." This does not surprise me though. The longer I live, the more I listen to the winds and ponder the myth of my existence, the more I come to sincerely believe in the inherent wickedness of all human beings. How beautiful this wickedness is though. How wonderful, exquisite, marvelous, awesome, and mindblowing this wickedness is, the baseness depravity of humanity when it is smote by something so beyond all aspects of the human faculty to comprehend; something like divine providence, God's love, and his ability to share these gifts in momentary sparks of revelation and action. I am content.