I say I have too much because besides having air, I have both arms, legs, eyes, ears, a nose and a mouth and all are operating just fine. On top of that, I have my own place. Three rooms: One livingroom, my room, and the dining room and its all to myself. I even have a little art studio on top of a hill. I even have a beautiful little Garden and a huge communal garden and gosh darnit, I have the best landlord and best friend you could ever dream of. I have a family that knows how to crack jokes and am the proud owner of lots and lots and lots of warm blankets. I have a refrigerator and pantry that is full of food. And on top of all this, I will be eating more food than I can dream of soon and meat is a part of it.
Now by no means is my place HUGE. You could actually stand in the center of it and see everything. The tour is over. The thing about it though is that it feels like a mansion after what I saw. I can't even believe how much food I have and that I can imagine any menu I want for dinner and make it happen. I have every finger I need to open the fridge and the legs I need to stand up so I can cook. I don't have years worth of rehab and surgeries I need to just be able to function again in society. Most refugees I had were suffering some sort of physical problem, whether from the bombs and carnage or from the anxiety and stress of being a refugee. Many of them had heart problems and panic attacks. 12 people slept in one room. I'm sitting alone in my room typing this as we speak.
I got lucky that my parents risked so much to immigrate here. I owe my everything to them and will do all I can from here. I think of it as being the lucky one that is not there now who can try to get them out of this.
Im thankful for every threadcount on my blanket and for the fresh scent of clean clothes. I'm thankful I don't have shrapnel in my ear and a scar running through my eyes. I'm thankful my foot works and is not shattered into a million pieces. Heck, I'm thankful my right arm works. I don't have a bullet that went through my triceps and then through my forearm. I also don't have to put powdered cement on my arm if I had to stop the bleeding. If I get diabetes, I know that I can get medicine anywhere and won't have to lose my eye or my leg because of it. I also don't have to sleep on the floor next to 10 other people. I have MY OWN queen sized mattress. The more I write about what I have, the guiltier I feel, especially because I know I can keep writing and writing, and that if I were to ask a refugee to write about things they were thankful for, even the worst of the worst situations would have so much to be thankful for. The contrast is that they are simple people and find content in the little things. We Americans would have nothing to be thankful for if we were in their shoes. The refugees, with so little already, were so thankful they even made it across the border. We are talking about people who lost their families and homes, and were ending every other sentence with "Thank God for all I have".
So no, I don't need stuff. Im not married to it and stuff will dissapear. So Black Friday, you can go be ashamed of yourself somewhere. And Cyber Monday, and Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday, go space out somewhere. I'm content in the wondrous knowledge that I have more than everything I need in my 700 square foot mansion surrounded by sycamore and oak trees. I am beyond rich, because being rich is a matter of perception. This is why I say Im rich. Now if I were to look at Bill Gates, who has more money than anyone can imagine, I would still consider myself extremely rich, because I am not measuring the richness of my life in money, but rather, space, friendship, not being deprived of food, and health of course.