I’ve been thinking about this quite a bit: the issue of that which is mine, yours, someone else’s.. and/or not.
I’ll share some of my thoughts with you.
Alright, so the other day (really any other day; a decade, year, month and week ago) someone listened into someone else’s discussion and thought it smart to interject. Whatever the topic of discussion was is just as irrelevant as the third party’s injection. What mattered then (and even so now) was the response he received,
“What’s your own?”
And so I stood, thinking, “What’s his own?” True.. but then again, if C could simply come and make B’s business his own by a simple act of interference, was it every really only B’s business in the first place?
I’ve been thinking about this quite a lot: the question of possession.
If something really is mine but can be taken away by someone else, be it randomly, by chance, illegally or legally obtained, why call it mine at all? Like a kid holding on to its toys. A woman to her man. A husband to his job. A family to its name. Surely I cannot be robbed of that which is truly mine..
By inheritance. By right?
And so the question of the law came in.
I have a right to be fed and clothed and sheltered, to feel safe. Surely, we all have these rights. The right to walk the streets without the fear of being attacked, robbed, stabbed.
Surely, I have the right to a safe work environment, to be kept from sexual assaults or abuse, to be treated equally and with respect. And should any of these laws be broken, I have the right to complain. Surely, I know my rights.
And so, I walk in complete and total awareness of who I am, and what is mine. That is, until it is taken away. My husband taken away by my best friend. My job snatched away by an envious colleague. Being continuously robbed of that which is mine by men..
An accident. The loss of memory. Amnesia. And so, I thought of those things that are really not down to (wo)men at all, or at least not exclusively. Things that are down (or perhaps up) to natural disasters, sicknesses, ailments, suffering…
I love my family and friends. I call them mine because I like to believe they belong to me. Until someone else comes and takes them away. Sometimes another human, sometimes time, sometimes life, and sometimes death.
And so I am left wondering. Were they ever truly mine?
Perhaps, perhaps not. Perhaps just for a season.
I guess what I am trying to say is that nothing you own outside of yourself is truly yours. I say outside but the truth is, not even your own mind or heart are truly yours. Most of us attempt to remain as true to ourselves as possible. You know you, you do you, you are you, that is,.. until life happens and shows you a side of yourself you didn’t even know existed. People come into your life unannounced, uninvited, and simply mess things up. And you are left wondering what to do, how to continue, or whether to continue at all.
Sometimes we experience it, and sometimes we cause it. We are being robbed, and do some robbing of our own. We cry and cause tears. We build our tomorrow eagerly, yet place stumbling blocks in the paths of others. We’re not that different after all.
And so, as I thought of ways to shake myself free, get rid of the shackles that have been holding me in the pitiful state of that which I thought myself to be, I realized the beauty of the old words..
Through times and seasons, the only three things that have the power and ability to remain:
– Faith in the only One who truly is.
– Hope of a better tomorrow: everlasting life.
– The breath of life and existence itself: Love.
Isn’t it marvelous how these three cords are beautifully woven together? Not in woman, man, nature, animals, or even yourself..