It was a busy weekend, filled with pleasures. A trip to Ottawa with my favourite daughter, to visit a favourite friend and her family, and absorb the wonder of a live performance of Hamilton. A trip to the border, with empty trunk and nervous battery saving for the return required arriveapp with a friend who is good company and needed a ride for her first visit to see her dad and stepmom since the pandemic descended. A walk and supper by the Lake Champlain, with a view of a Juniper Island crowded with evergreens and a layered backdrop of the Adirondack mountains with a warm summer breeze.
I went to be tired, with windows open and fan blowing to bring in the fresh cooler air that the rainstorm had afforded. I woke up in a shirt and underwear, and no alarm. When I went to the kitchen to get breakfast, and looked out the living room window while petting Calico, I realized that I felt freer than usual. My neighbour to the direction of both of those rooms’ window, and to the back are not home. One is recovering from illness in the hospital, and unlikely to return given the state of dementia he was living with. The other is on holiday in Europe for a couple of weeks.
Normally, I am not aware of an restrictions in my house. I feel fortunate (even uncomfortable in being spoiled) with the amount of space and freedom living in the suburbs in a luxurious detached house with some generous yard space surrounding it. But today I see that I feel boxed on equally, and that I would prefer additional private space outside my walls to truly feel the freedom I ideally crave.
My friend in Ottawa had bought a brand new car to replace the old one that was without air conditioner and leaking coolant. She commutes a significant distance for work, and was enjoying the safety and convenience of her new reliable car until the Monday previous, when it was stolen from her drive way. Even worse, she had managed to acquire the car in her preferred red, which was hard to come by in this market, and even harder to replace at this moment. Additionally, she had spend an hour on the phone answering innumerable questions about insurance, only to find out that the replacement cost had not been discussed, and she was not covered as she had reasonable expected for a new car.
What we have, and how we feel we own it, is both a pleasure and a burden. The necessity of something is most easily debated when we do without, or are gifted something unexpectedly. Communal ownership or a detachment from our possessions is critical to our satisfaction. Living simply with few needs, but with enough to answer then, is a tightrope to be walked with care. It is a scale to be balanced. It is a constant tasting, like the three bears, to find the temperate that is “just right”, knowing that it will not last long, and we will have to keep on testing.
Things fall apart, break down, go away. People and relationships do too. The Newtonian rules of the universe taught me this in high school, but the reality of Einstein’s relativity would come later. The energy is never lost, and it can be used to rebuild, repair, renew in a different form. Life and ownership, friendships, needs and wants, are constantly changing. Our happiness can not depend on any particular form of it, but it is a nice thing to enjoy what we really love while we have it, as long as we are not dependent on it and dissatisfied when we lose it.
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