A few weeks ago, while sitting at a coffee shop, I remember being especially jealous. I was jealous because one of my friends seemed to have gotten, for a lack of a better word, a "blessing" of some sort from his girlfriend's father. More or less, at least to me, it seemed like they were bound to get married. I grumbled to the people I was with, saying "I wish I could have gotten blessings."
One of my friends replied "Well, at least you still have the Clippers." He was referencing a joke earlier about me supposedly "buying" the Los Angeles Clippers.
I chuckled at the thought about owning a basketball team but quickly dismissed it because I knew what I really wanted. Heck, I wanted to be in my friend's position and I was willing to trade 2 billion dollars for it. It's not because I'm interested in his girlfriend or I like her father but rather I wanted to be seemingly eternally accepted by the gatekeeper of whoever I'm going to be dating in the future; that is, assuming anyone even likes writers. I'm damn envious of the fact that he seemed to have gotten his life set while I'm still busy writing blogs that impress no one.
So, for the past few weeks, I have been busy reminding myself of all the blessings I have, despite not having, quite honestly, the one I want.
The things I take for granted come to mind first. In the most typical way of saying it, I'm blessed to have food on the table everyday, to have a room full of things probably worth more than a small tribe in Africa, and a healthy body capable of doing almost anything. I don't notice the expense of luxurious things that are readily assumed to be available at any time, like fruits and vegetables.
The enemies we call the police are, in the end, here for my protection. I can go to my local playground and not pay a single cent for basketball courts that seem broken down to me but relatively new to people in countries playing on self-made rims. I have a car, tablet, and computer because I don't have to worry about things like shelter, food, and other basic necessities. To me, brushing my teeth at night with Colgate is a given and sleeping without a mattress is crazy talk.
When I think about blessings, I still often think back to my friend. I mull over these things, often in deep thought, without my mind wandering elsewhere. I sigh to myself and try to refocus on the air conditioning blowing in the living room, trying to find a sense of solace through that. Even now, I'm still not satisfied with the supposedly little things I have.
Maybe in time I will, but probably only when I lose it all.