I recently read an interesting article about how losing stuff can change your life.
The author’s bottom line was that “Involuntarily losing shit … brutally takes things away at random and makes you fight to get them back so that you remember and reaffirm the value of each one.”
When I lose stuff, I also often lose perspective and go quite berserk no matter how valuable the lost item. Thankfully, recovery has enabled me to improve in this arena. However, being on an extremely tight spending plan does make the pain run a bit deeper for me as I cannot blithely buy another of anything anymore.
For instance, I recently bought a corded cell phone headset for $15 (it came with a very cool car holder for the phone). Shockingly, it was the best headset I’d ever had. And then it broke.
Grief washed over me.
But the seller was kind enough to send a replacement.
Joy washed away the grief.
And then, last week, it was gone. Poof.
A storm of anger pummeled the joy to death.
My initial reaction was that I just didn’t want to spend another $15 from my very tiny discretionary category to replace it. The loss enabled me to think about how important the headset is to me. Is it worth taking money that I could use for something I want more? That, I think, is the question every recovering compulsive debtor and spender must ask in general.
Our program is about choices … and about accepting that we cannot have everything we want the moment we want it.
There is a void where the headset was that holds my resentment. I can choose to let it erupt or, when, like now when I’m writing about it, acknowledge that it sucks but just say “oh well” to the feelings and move on. I’m grateful that I can do that today.
Of course, I can choose to buy yet another one. But I don’t have to do so. Either way, I know that I won’t die from the loss or the desire to replace it.
Peace dried up the storm of anger.
And that is really the miracle of the program.