You own nothing

A few days back I was complaining about the amount of money I am spending on a leased vehicle. While fanning the flames of my discontent and feeding the dragon of inner dialog with sacrificial morsels of a peaceful disposition I was suddenly stopped by an echo. Some random comment from a Youtube video I watched weeks prior seeped into my conscious vien and gave me pause.

A moment I held the thought to internal light considering its worth, gearing towards feeding it to the discontent monster and moving on. Yet the sudden pause pressed gently passed a moment into a gaze at the world of leasing versus ownership and how the words the uttered now affected my perspective. “…You can’t own it…”  was the fragment he used when describing certain spiritual gifts that in his estimation were freely given to be used but not owned by the recipient. “Spiritual gifts you don’t own them[…]Your salvation is a gift but you don’t own it.” He kept redressing the point several different times which mildly annoyed me.

So here I am driving after being paused by “you don’t own it” and it hit me as leasing morphed into other thoughts about love lossed and my train of thought continued speeding beyond familiar venue’s slowing to a crawl at  the idea that leasing is a part of nature. An internal laughter prevailed as I too exclaimed aloud, repeating several times like some mental patient who found the bluebird of happiness, “you really don’t own anything in this life!!” So obvious but over looked.

Images flashed like motivational snippets in the mind of the almost beaten hero during the final climatic fight scene. Yet these images I was experiencing were like a prosecutors cross examination filled with evidence that all is temporal and leased. Exibit A: The bodies we indwell are giving to us for a time and then they pass away.  Exibit B: If we pay off our house, there are still taxes and when we die the house remains and we become REMAINS. All the time, work, and maintenance all stay behind along with the memories that simply disappear as the unwritten memories of those who experience them disappear from this plane of existence. We are just the stewards who do the deeds necessary to lease whatever quality of the life we lived and afforded.

LOVE…No we don’t even own LOVE. We fall into it or decide to love someone and if it lasts a lifetime it’s wonderful but a lifetime isn’t forever. Then there’s those that fall out of love. The love we thought was as constant as the north star. On and on this analysis went from one room of life to the next.

I love fall but seasons change and we move into winter. Relationships with friends change…this world is filled with continuous cycles of birth and decay. We measure the moments and take mental inventory of the ingredients that made it ‘just-right’ and try to recreate it this is the closest expression a mortal being can get to immortality! Yet it never is exactly the same just a copy. We don’t own the seasons or the love life surrounds us with it is at best leased to us. We are all but stewards of the justice we experience and the rewards and accolades fortune are sticks us with in this physical world.

I have held tightly to the emotional symmetry and angles of perception I call my personality using it unconsciously then framing what I want to project towards the world. The world that exist in my head then sculpt more emotions on what I interpret as the worlds reaction or interaction with whats in the frame and I call it a life or my life. Yet even lost in such psychological word play that game is leased to you daily and you play with the various forms as they adapt, change, and disappear.

Crazy when I consider all the hell we sometimes create in ourselves over leased moments, opportunities, and perceptions. I have peace that in knowing nothing is forever and if there is any value to be placed on leased experiences it will be in people not possession. I choose gratitude for what I have been able to enjoy not mourning  how quickly it disappeared.