Our Painful Past

It's not too often another blog post leads to a Twitter conversation, that leads to me posting on my blog, but here we are, at that weird crossroads of "Real" and "Virtual" with a blog topic, in hand.

On a recent blog post, Lee Bezotte wrote about experiences and possessions.

Possessions are fun. I’m not going to lie to you.  It’s fun to buy stuff, play with it, drive it, watch it, talk on it, whatever.  But…

Experiences are memorable.  I wouldn’t trade some of my experiences, like my trips to Ireland, even for a new Mac.

Some people can afford both, but most of us can’t.  We ultimately end up choosing one over the other, even if we’re not aware that we’ve made that choice.

So how about you?  Are you a possession person or an experience person?

It was a quick post but it got a lot of people talking, mainly me.  I hate to say it, but experiences can be misleading, but so can possessions.  I made a smart ass remark, about trading painful experiences into possessions.  I mean, who wouldn't want to forget about the time you fell into a fire for an iPod, right?  Then, my wife, who always puts things into perspective, said something mind blowing.

Our painful memories make us who we are.

She has a rather valid point, but I am one to always have a counter point, this time to her and Señior Bezotte.

Lee, one of the many Christian bloggers I follow, and one I have no right calling by his first name, made a statement about trading experiences for possessions.  The problem is, we're always doing it, even when we're trying to build new experiences.  Bezotte's trip to Ireland probably wasn't free, right?  In essence, his trip was a possession that turned into an experience.

Yes, I know I'm cutting hairs, but follow with me for a moment.

The same goes for the Disney Cruise, my family and I went on a year ago.  My daughter will never forget that as long as she humanly can.  She'll never forget not getting Stitch's signature in her book, and she'll never forget the the clubhouse, with the princess, looking for Tinkerbell.  These are experiences, but the cruise was a possession to me.  The time I had with my family will never be replicated, but it won't go down as my greatest experience together.

Everyone see an experience different, something they'd never trade for anything, but my darkest experiences I would like to forever forget.

I've never had any real use, other than conversational side bars, for my knowledge on the pagan occult.  Yes, the information does come in handy while watching movies to be able to say "That's just not even close to how a druid would act," or during Ghost Adventures, when they start doing stuff that would make the normal Christian freak out.  Zak's a little crazy, you know?  The night I created "holy water" for a member of my coven - this is an experience I'd like to trade for some belly button lint.  It has no redeeming value, and little to do with who I am today.  My negative experiences may not be wiped away by the latest and greatest new whatever, but I also don't believe those negative experiences made me any better a person, either.  I'm not saying good can't come from a bad experience, but that's a whole other post.

You can believe every little experience can have an effect somewhere down the road, but we'll never know if it's a good or bad effect.  No- buying another video game will not allow me to have the best month ever, but buying a book can lead me to learning something I never knew.  No- buying an iPad won't make me fill more whole as a person, but buying a coke can make me feel just better enough to get me through the day.

Do I need a Kindle?  No.  Do I want a Kindle?  Yes.  I enjoy reading, and because of my inability to carry objects heavier than a piece of toast, a Kindle would be much easier to carry around than, lets say, any given King novel, or a whole slew of other books.  Will a Kindle cure my inability to eat cheese warmer than room temperature?  No, but while I sit on the toilet, I'd be able to read Hear No Evil without having to worry about loosing my spot when I'm done.  It's not life changing.

Should we stop experiencing? Should we stop gathering possessions? Of courses not, but using the excuse that one is another is counter-productive.  One man's possession is another man's experience.  One man's experience is another man's possession.

Grace and Peace,
Jesse

PS: Yes, sometimes all we need is a Coke and a smile, but no, I don't read or write while doing bathroom business.