Monday Prompt

Is My Glass Half Empty or Half Full? When is Enough Enough?

Taking stock is the heart of appreciation

Since I have an abundance of things in my life — some might say to a fault — I should be able to take stock and acknowledge them, right.

Usually, when I look around my home, my self-talk goes like this:

Too much stuff!

So get rid of some of it!

Yeah, but what?

And that shuts up the voice till next time.

Diana’s prompt suggests a different approach. To notice what things I dream of gathering into my life, whether I ‘own’ them or not. And then to notice if and/or where I already enjoy those things in my life.

Things don’t have to be material objects. They could be things like dance and theater, literature, and mystical wisdom.

Or they could be things like books, clothes, and art supplies.

So let’s start there.

You would think I have very few books by the way I buy them.

My book purchases spike right up there with the COVID stats. I was going to write gotten out of hand, but these aren’t ebooks. I can hold them!

I just can’t control them. It’s like they’ve got minds of their own and take over. But books are my favorite companions. They give me the insights, experience, wisdom, or wildest imaginings from their authors without my having to endure their peculiar habits or serve them tea.

Each book represents a journey or adventure I get to go on with its author. Collections seal the deal. Toni Cade Bambara lets me tag along with her and her brother Raymond on their daily runs through 1960s Brooklyn.

Shrimping in salt marshes, dining al fresco on a Roman piazza, and being beached on the back of a giant manta ray are only drops in the gulf of experiences enjoyed through Pat Conroy’s prose-luscious novels. I’m only missing The Boo, which is out of print.

Botswana’s Mma Precious Ramotswe’s collective exploits live near my bed, poised for my daily nightcap. Yes, they’re slow-moving, but the characters leap off the page into my heart. While none of Alex McCall-Smith’s other series speak to me, Mma Ramotswe’s No. One with her Ladies Detective Agency!

Just to name a few.

I keep discovering more books I’d love to read and/or own, including some of the classics I missed in school while reading contemporary fiction. But if I ever take stock, I may well have more books to be read than ones already read.

I read my favorites over and over. Especially the long, epic-length stories. I prefer the comfort of a known delight to risking scarce free time on a disappointment. But then, if I don’t find out if a book disappoints, I’ll never be able to pass it forward. Sigh…

It’s time to prune my wardrobe.

While it’s something I enjoy doing. I keep delaying the pleasure.

Maybe I’m afraid I’ll throw out clothes that are currently too big given the weight I’ve lost since COVID. I’m scared I’ll gain it back, and nothing will fit! And since I have a huge walk-in closet, why not? I’d like to get some new or new-to-me things to celebrate. But it isn’t necessary.

I’ve been wearing sweats and leggings, saving nicer outfits for when people will see more than my head and shoulders. I don jeans or a skirt when I actually go somewhere with people.

I enjoy feeling and looking good in clothes. And wearing colorful or shapely or flowy garments not so much as fashion statements as my version of wearable art. Curated and combined from local thrift shops!

I fantasize about making more runs. But the one time I ventured to Out of the Closet for a warmer sweater, there were too many unmasked folks for my comfort. Now that I’ve been vaccinated, I might enjoy a splurge. But only if I fill up at least two bags to donate!

Now hear this: I do not need any more art supplies.

But oh, are they fun! I used to be a regular at Michaels, buying way more than I could ever use. Of course, it’s lovely to have choices, right?

I must have hundreds of rubber stamps. Rolls and rolls of washi tape. Scrapbook paper, gel pens, sketchbooks, inks, paints, and art journals in the making. I even have a set of wooden birdhouses shaped like airstream trailers. One is even painted!

I have a friend newly converted to making junk journals and plot books. She’s got me hooked on her enticing youtube videos. So yes, I fantasize about going on runs to antique stores for vintage papers and ephemera. Spending frugally, of course.

Truth be told, I have plenty of that stuff.

At least enough to get started. I can’t buy more unless I actually make some journals. Isn’t the whole point of a junk journal to use up my junk on hand?

What is the point of buying faux vintage, pretending it came from Grandma’s attic when it came from Tim Holtz’s studio? Not even from his grandmother’s attic! Don’t get me wrong, his stuff is divine! But I may well have a lifetime supply already given my age!

This crafty stuff is meant to be used.

Watching videos gets my juices flowing — a good break from computer-centric activities. Then again, dancing or stretching might be even better.

Which brings me to the intangible things I dream of. More dance. More theater.

More mysticism for my life.

A message is coming through re: all of this, tangible and non. I don’t need more stuff. I need to get up and move!

Besides, more stuff means more dusting, more piles on the floor, more wardrobe maintenance, and more storage challenges.

Instead, let me learn to appreciate, read, wear, use, and enjoy what I have. Let me slow down, breathe deeper, express gratitude.

This morning, on Facebook, a friend posted an image from

Vanguard Foundation’s John Bogle’s book, Don’t Count on It. I copied and pasted it from a website called, A Wealth of Common Sense:

At a party given by a billionaire on Shelter Island, the late Kurt Vonnegut informs his pal, author Joseph Heller, that their host, a hedge fund manager, had made more money in a single day than Heller had earned from his wildly popular novel, Catch-22, over its whole history. Heller responds, “Yes, but I have something he will never have — enough.”

Well said.

Let this remind me I have enough! And that this post is enough. It has enough words, ideas, wit, and whimsy to be declared complete!

Thank you, Diana C. for taking us on this week’s journey promptly!

Marilyn Flower writes political humor and satire to delight socially and spiritually conscious folks. She’s a regular columnist for the prison newsletter, Freedom Anywhere, where she writes about faith and prayer. Five of her short plays have been produced in San Francisco. Clowning and improvisation strengthen her resolve during these crazy times. Stay in touch!