Aren’t greed and expectation nearly the same thing?

It’s funny that greed is a dirty word.
But really – if not for greed — would any of us get out of bed in the morning?

Aren’t greed and expectation nearly the same thing?

I WANT to get out of bed in the morning and take a deep breath. That wanting is greed and yet — I also need to breathe in order to stay alive.

Where is the fine line between basic needs and anything above and beyond that?
Who decides what basic needs are?
Who the fuck are these judgement police telling us to stop wanting?

Luxury is defined as, “something adding to pleasure or comfort but not absolutely necessary”

A basic need — something that is a necessity not a desire. Is this to breathe in and out?
Okay. Then what? Is my morning coffee not also a necessity?
Or is this where we get into greed and judgement?
I don’t need coffee technically to survive, so what is my problem?

I find myself comparing things a lot lately. Just shut the fuck up about that. It’s human nature.

Well I had a worse day than you. You have lots of money to throw at your problems, I don’t have that luxury.
But then. I don’t have a lot of problems either.
Perhaps that is worse – to have a mile long list of fires to put out every day.

Somebody always has it worse.

I’ll be feeling sorry for myself and then I’ll come to a traffic light and watch the haggard looking guy holding his signs.
Sometimes the signs are funny, clever. Sometimes they’re just plain heart breaking.
And then the light turns green. I pass the guy and I see him turn away from the traffic. He knows the light’s green and he didn’t get anything this round.
His effort was all for nothing. He wipes his brow, he hangs his head. He works up a boner to turn back and face the traffic the next time the light turns red.
To put himself out there yet again, because what the fuck else is he going to do?
He doesn’t have the luxury of caring what people think. Of giving a fuck if he looks silly.

And I think — wait a minute, what am I so upset about? In my air conditioned car on my way to my air conditioned home full of ice cubes and filtered water?
What more is it that I’m wanting from life if not to wake up every day safe, loved, alive.

This is where greed feels dirty though.
Even though that man with the signs would also continue to want more.
Once his basic needs were met and he was off the street.
There’s always be more.

Because I do want more than that, even though that sounds just fucking awful when you put it like that, you know?

I think okay. I’ve got the basic things. The things a lot of people in this world would shit their pants to have or to feel.

I’m white as they come.
I’m a woman.
I’m cute as hell.
My boyfriend loves the shit out of me.
We have good sex and mutual respect.
I don’t live in a war zone.
In general, I’m safe all the time.
The government gives me money every month for food.

Right, okay.

So what *are* the things I WANT.

Income security. To not have to wonder where my rent money will come from, if I’ll make it, or what I’ll do if I don’t.
So much money in the bank that the government takes away my food stamps. I can walk thru the grocery store without a list, no budget, with reckless abandon.
What would I even do with all that money?
I’d have a yoga membership.
weekly massages
a stack full of twenties in the glove box to give to the people holding signs
bags in the backseat of my car with non-perishables: soap, tampons, water, granola bars.
A second car.
A fat budget for gifting people — maybe the actual money, maybe actual gifts depending on the situation.
The freedom to travel, to do things unplanned and on a whim.
I’d fast track my health. I’d get all the tests I want that my insurance won’t cover. I’d order all the nutrition and I’d pay someone to help me manage it all until I was truly in a state of wellness.
I’d fund all the kickstarters and all of the online campaigns. I’d buy art at all of the tiny galleries. Tickets to see all of the up and coming local bands and I’d buy all of their merch.
I’d have a few different houses to fit all my moods: one in the woods, one by the ocean and one in the city.
Maybe I’d even have a third car. A really impractical one.
Pay it forward money. For her coffee, for his tank of gas, for their Costco tab.
Creative freedom.
I’d pay a team of people to implement my ideas. I just have the ideas. They make them come to life. They figure out the logistics. I just write the blog – they’re the ones that fancy it up and put it out there. I don’t do anything technical, it’s all creative. I have people that do the grunt work.

Luxury: an indulgence in something that provides pleasure, satisfaction, or ease.

It’d just be life at a different level.
I’d still want to have coffee on the porch in the mornings.
Watch Netflix and eat spoon fulls of peanut butter and chocolate.
Write.
Shop at Trader Joe’s
Take sunset walks
Swim in fresh water
And snuggle until 10am
Just maybe on five star hotel quality sheets.

To put it much more simply than that: I want to be living in luxury, that’s all.

Luxury: a condition of abundance or great ease and comfort.

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