Materialism

As some of you know, I've decided to give up materialism.

Well, sorta. It's not like I've taken a vow of poverty or anything like that; I'm mostly just tired of the clutter and "the game." (Tangent: What you may call "keeping up with the Joneses" is what I call "the game." I was pretty good at "the game" at one point, but I still found it utterly and completely meaningless.)

Today I had an experience that highlighted exactly why I need to give up materialism. Long story short, some guy ran me off the road while driving down the highway. Basically, I had the choice between getting broadsided (on the side Bree sits on, no less) or the ditch; I took the ditch. I have ice in my veins in these types of situations; I don't freak out at all--I just do what I need to do. In this case, I went off the road, navigated some ditch and returned to the road when it was safe to do so. But here's where the problem of materialism set in: once all the fun was over is when the stress kicked in. Of course, I knew Bree and I were completely unharmed, but I was worried about the Cruiser. Obviously, the thing isn't made for off-roading. So, instead of simply being grateful that everybody lived and all that good stuff, I'm worrying about the car until I got home and checked it out--like it even matters. That's what insurance is for, right?

I fully intend to keep my car; everybody needs a car (at least here we do), and my car fits in with my car-buying strategy (the subject of another blog sometime), so it makes no sense to me to get rid of it. But, I really need to remember that stuff doesn't matter.

By the way, the car is completely fine, as far as I can tell.