The other day Bronte came into my room and asked sweetly if she could wear one of my shirts. I responded indignantly telling her 'no' and that the shirt was "special." She left in a huff and I felt horrid for denying her, for what is more special than my relationship with my sister? I immediately reconsidered and told her that she could of course wear the shirt. We continued on in peace that day, having nipped the discord allegiance to objects can cause in the bud.
In addition to aforementioned experiences, I have paid witness to many conversations about special things recently and it has caused my perception of my own experience to deepen. Though I am guilty of lusting after designer duds from time to time, I believe that objects should pass through our lives, being used when needed and passed along when they have fulfilled their purpose. Emphasis should be placed on the infinite rather than the finite aspects or our experience. The items of real importance are our friends and family, of which some things may be kept and treasured to remind us, but the rest discarded when the time is right.
So as I watched this young woman beam with joy as she showed the grandpa-to-be her new purchase, I smiled knowing that I am passing the joy of that adorable onesie on to someone else rather than hoarding it for myself. And as Tallulah crawled for the first time today, I was reminded of how little importance material things hold especially in comparison to the miracles present in the human spirit.