Do you stop and wonder about the nature of the objects around you? The refrigerator’s hum or the comb on the dresser. How they came to be in your possession at a particular point in time. Where they may have come from and and where they may be headed. That alone—the impermanence of ownership—is enough to get in a tizzy. Pondering the eventualities of life. They really get you, believe me.
In relevance to others, you seek things. How these pants compare to those pants or this car and that.
Of all the things I hear about my transient nature, the most common is: “God, I wish I could do that.”
“Do what?”
“I want to go to a place I’ve always dreamed of.”
or
“I want to go to a place I’ve been before. I loved it.”
I look around at the chairs and walls and I feel satisfaction with the current moment. The idea of settling for unsatisfying surroundings saddens me. More so than the other sad things in life. More so than life itself.
I see a person telling me they don’t want to be here, but they want to be there, and I have to wonder why they don’t simply say goodbye, get up, and go to where they want to be.