This guy speaks truth. What do we really “own?” We are temporary, finite creatures on this planet. We have things we USE. He calls it a basic fact. Most people don’t get this. Can you take it with you?
Typically, for most folks, the biggest financial investments we make—homes and cars—are consumable commodities. They can be consumed, as in burnt up in flames, until they are gone. In accounting, we call them depreciating assets. Even homes that gain value over time will one day decay, become dilapidated to the point of falling in on themselves or get torn down. It will become a dump, a trash heap of debris. It’s a consumable commodity, a depreciating asset, that may serve a purpose in your life until the time you die. It won’t last forever, either. Even if you “pass it down,” the average lifespan of a home is three generations. Homes and treasured heirlooms have a limited lifespan. People who suffered through but survived Hurricane Ian understand the limited lifespan and value of THINGS, even precious things, irreplaceable things. Things that are consumable, though, and won’t go into eternity with you.
In moving back to this island among those survivors last year, that weighed heavy on my decision. I’m a minimalist and have lived that way since 2011. The six years leading up to that, I began deconstructing my sense of self, my faith and downsizing. In the year that followed I got divorced, downsizing even further and going deep into myself TO FIND ME! So that when I moved back amongst the living dead, one year and eight months after most of them LOST EVERYTHING, I believed I would be amongst like souls who had learned this valuable life lessons. Things hold no eternal value.
My girlfriend and I just went round-and-round on this very topic. The cremains of our parents do not hold their essence. The ashes of their mortal bodies do not keep them close to us in spirit. They are but a reminder of them, their essence and presence in our lives. Even less valuable things, like keepsakes from childhood, or our kids’ childhood, hold no real eternal value. They are mere pointers, physical reminders, of what we had, what once was. They stir our nostalgia and our fuzzy recollections.
I can remember our old 8mm home movie reels. Dad had a Bell + Howell movie projector and a movie screen that he’d setup in our basement and play for us early childhood memories. There I was on the movie screen at 3 years old playing football with my dad on the living room carpet, at 5 years old being walked down the street towards kindergarten by my 3 year old sister, or at 6 years old playing in the fall leaves at Broad Ripple Park (Northeast Indianapolis). I would watch those movies for years and it brought back wonderfully nostalgic feelings. But I didn’t travel back in time and become that 3 year old in an oversized football helmet. You can never go back. And now that the home movies are gone and I’m aging, those memories from long ago get fuzzier and more distant. Dad even had them digitized before the film totally deteriorated, but then he lost the disc. Unless digital copies exist somewhere in the cloud, those old movies are gone forever, lost to time. They were not eternal, either.
What’s my point? I’d give everything I have to have those digitized films back for antiquity. I’d love to hand them down to my adult daughters. I’d love to hear their laughter over me crying because I didn’t WANT to play football or wear that ridiculous helmet! I’d love to know that they could one day show their own children, should they have any. But they DO HAVE memories of our lives together. THAT will be my enduring legacy, the only thing of eternal value.
What do we really own? Our life on planet Earth is SO SHORT! We take none of the stuff with us, but as George Carlin put it, we spend so much of our lives worrying about our stuff and where we are going to store our stuff. It’s comical because it’s true. But it’s also sad. It shows us the ridiculous value we place in things and the ridiculous amount of time we spend working for and worrying about things. They are insignificant refuse meant for the garbage heap of time. Even our bodies are consumable. Mine will be burnt up in a crematory one day.
That’s not fatalism, but realism.
So where do you place value in your life? What are you working so hard for? Things that are eternal and priceless or consumable commodities, like creature comforts? Do you need them, like air and water, to survive? Then what are they really worth? What are you investing in of any significant value? Where are your priorities? What is the payoff?
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