ztraffer

Us humans have an urge to make things our own; objects, ideas, other people. Knowing, seeing, touching, are not enough: we have to posses. The more we are attracted to something, the more we are driven this way. And if we can't have it, we become restless, distraught; we suffer, even. Why this urge? As a way to incorporate them into our own identity, or as a way to counter the fear of loss, perhaps. As someone once said, the things we own end up owning us -or in the words of Master Yoda: "train yourself, you must, to let go of that which you are afraid of loosing." Giving up on something we want can be harder than straining every muscle in our bodies, and yet it requires no physical energy; why is that drive so strong? If we do let go, however, the benefits become clear -a sense of liberation, of freedom, of lightness. Why then, is it so hard sometimes, to just let go?

Way back when, at the turn of the millenium, I was part of a big family called Genuity. As in all families, there were disagreements, triumphs, bitter fights, great friendships, and the bond of common goals and struggles. It was in a way, a coming of age, a rite of passage at a critical time. Though for me it only lasted three years, it seemed like much longer -they were after all, not regular years, but internet years, and events that would normally develop over months, took only weeks. We were all still riding the internet boom, and things happened fast. Not surprisingly, they also ended fast. The much anticipated crash was finally beginning to happen. Then came the coup de grace on 9/11. Three rounds of lay-offs later, there was no longer a "u" in Genuity, as the joke went -and a pink slip was my inspiration to migrate westward. A few months after that, Genuity was little more than a billion-dollar garage sale. It is amazing how quickly time erodes the past. Today, while ...

OK, maybe not free, but definitley affordable. [ x ][ > ]

...I didn't start the fight, but I'm definitely finishing it