Rishire Writes

That’s this year’s motto. I want to attempt to live minimally this year, at least until my birthday in May that is. In the past I feel as though I have been too much of a spendthrift. As my high school history teacher would say, I’ve been a real “shopper.” I can’t help it! Any time I was upset I would empty my wallet at the nearest store. Of course I’m exaggerating, but I did believe in the power of retail therapy. It’s arguably cheaper than actual therapy, so that’s a pro. I have accumulated dozens of heels that I never wear because I suck at walking in them and have no where to go. Ever. My dresser drawer is choking with workout clothes that I rarely wear, because I hate working out (that’s neither here nor there). I have at least five purses that I never touch, but I can’t stop buying more! I obviously have a problem, and this year I plan to solve it.

In coming up with this resolution of sorts, I considered those suffering from extreme poverty. I know what homelessness feels like, but that memory hasn’t stopped me from splurging. Living in New York, there’s someone begging for money on every other corner. Poverty is inescapable in this rich city. It’s one of those sad truths that you pray about but honestly feel like you can’t change. Despite the hardships they are forced to endure, the homeless and poverty stricken have something that we as at least somewhat wealthy Americans may not have too much of–appreciation. I’m not trying to say that anyone who can afford a steak dinner at Ruth Chris doesn’t appreciate any of the blessings they enjoy on a daily basis, I just mean it’s so much easier to notice one good in a sea of bad. I could be wrong, but a ray of light does shine the brightest in a dark room, if you know what I mean.

It could also be true that homeless people are kind of picky. This one time I gave a homeless woman with a small child my leftover pizza from work, and she looked at me and asked if it was cold. I wanted to give her some side-eye and snatch the pizza away. If she didn’t want to eat my cold leftover pizza, she could go ahead and eat nothing. Of course I didn’t. I actually don’t remember what I did, but I did let her keep the pizza. Whether or not she ate it, I don’t know nor do I care. That story only goes to say that even with nothing, you expect or desire a certain quality of something. I think I’ve lost my train of thought, but the point is, I’m going to try to live as if I can only have what I already have. I want to renew my understanding of a truly blessed life and appreciate it by not wanting more. I don’t mean I’m going to stop aspiring for the best, I just mean if there’s a small hole in my two year old jeans I’m not going to run to Macy’s and buy five pairs to replace it. I might buy one, though…the hole is causing a draft!