It’s Not Yours
Last night, I was leaving the gym, and when I pulled out of my spot in the parking lot, another car pulled right into the spot I was leaving. It was then that I was reminded: It wasn’t my spot.
Our possessions: our clothing, space, friends, pets, technology, knowledge…We believe in some strange way that these are things we own. Almost as though we are entitled to them. We’ve all seen busy mall parking lots where two cars are screaming at one another because they both declare that the spot they’re fighting over is theirs. But it’s just an area of concrete marked by rectangular paint which is slightly larger than the size of a car.
Now, obviously a parking spot should be less intimate to us than your favorite pet. But what I’m saying is that ownership is totally arbitrary. My cat is my cat because I found her roaming the streets of Salisbury and I took her home so she wouldn’t freeze and starve. Before that day, she was someone else’s cat. If a guy busted down my door and stole my TV. My precious TV, where I watch my HBO, my standup specials, and my sports. If he took that and brought it to his house and started watching whatever robbers watch (the Cooking channel?), then it’d be his TV.
Everything from your phone to the air you breathe…it’s not yours. You’re just borrowing it. So take care of it while it’s in your care. Take care of your friends. Take care of your stuff. Because you won’t have them forever.