The Stuff Our Lives Are Made Of

I have never shopped on Black Friday. When my husband and I first met, I was invited by the women of his clan to join them on their 5am excursions into the fray, complete with long-distance walkie-talkies and sketched out blueprints of department store floorplans.I declined politely, preferring to spend my time with visiting family and friends over the all-too-short holiday weekend. But,paging through the heaps of ads yesterday for Friday's Big Sales, I couldn't help but get a little seduced by all the stuff...It was an endless parade of all the stuff you 'need' to have this season, and flipping through the shiny pages, the beginnings of the idea that I needed that stuff, too, began creeping in.

Back at home, I often get frustrated with our lack of stuff. I'm irritated with our ancient TV, our mattress sans bedframe, our ratty 4th-hand furniture. I catch myself daydreaming  all the time about stuff- things I'd buy if I could afford them or things I want. Then I give myself a reality check, and realize how truly rich my life is: A wonderful, supportive family, a strong and sturdy house, a capable and healthy body, a loving husband and a slew of kitties who adore me and depend on me...not to mention a pantry full of wholesome food, clothing that keeps me warm, and brand new running shoes that just came in the mail.

Stepping back from the hype over Black Friday, I realize each year how the intangible stuff like love, safety, and integrity overshadow toys, TV's, and Snuggies without contest.