Love looks through a telescope; envy, through a microscope. ~Josh Billings
I suppose any corporate lawyer will surely have possessions to be admired, like a high quality briefcase, and this man was no different. I cannot recall his name now, but I remember his story and how it affected my view on what really has value in this life.
His home was amazing, and I was there once each week cleaning its contents wishing it was all mine. The longer I was there the stronger the wanting became, consuming me like an advanced cancer. It didn't seem fair that some have it all, while others have to work hard to just get by. I thought if only my life had been different. The decisions I made had set a course that rolled me forward like wheels on a haphazard runaway train. Sometimes the faster you go, the harder you fall, and I learned that lesson the painful way. Life is full of choices. Sometimes we do the right thing for the wrong reason and vice versa, but the only solution is taking responsibility for our own decisions and fix what is broken withing our own means. j
The first time I saw his expensive briefcase, it was open on his desk as I carefully dusted around it to prevent from disturbing its contents. All the while I was unable to avoid seeing it as a reminder of someone else's greater value and success. In all facets of his life he was a winner. He had a great career, home, and family, and that seemed to hit me as a blow to my own self worth. It just reminded me of my own failures. From what I could see, he had done everything right, and I certainly envied his diligence and achievements.
It was a few months later that his wife called me with news that I never would have expected. She said I did not need to come back to clean because he had been killed in a car wreck on his way home from the office. As a courtesy, I came to work at no charge, but only neighbors were there to let me in. His wife and baby had left to stay at her parent's house. It was strange how so much can change in such a short time. She would probably have to move, and her baby girl would never really know her father.
When I arrived, I saw the briefcase again. This time it was sitting by the door. Apparently, the police had brought it when they gave her the devastating news. I will never forget the sight of it. A mangled torn up mess was all that was left. Evidently, he had lost control on a curve and his car hit a tree. If the neighbors had not informed me, I think the briefcase told it plain and clear. Just one look and you knew it was bad, real bad.
That was the last time I cleaned for them, and I never saw her again. I have often wondered how she is now. Before I had spent so much energy envying her life, but after that I could only feel a deep sadness for her. I realized how brief and fragile life can be for anyone, rich or poor. One can only hope to live this life understanding that what truly matters cannot be bought or sold, and to know that only we can fulfill our dreams. Success and acceptance are not inside someone else's briefcase, but rather can only be found within the clutches of one's own heart.
I suppose any corporate lawyer will surely have possessions to be admired, like a high quality briefcase, and this man was no different. I cannot recall his name now, but I remember his story and how it affected my view on what really has value in this life.
His home was amazing, and I was there once each week cleaning its contents wishing it was all mine. The longer I was there the stronger the wanting became, consuming me like an advanced cancer. It didn't seem fair that some have it all, while others have to work hard to just get by. I thought if only my life had been different. The decisions I made had set a course that rolled me forward like wheels on a haphazard runaway train. Sometimes the faster you go, the harder you fall, and I learned that lesson the painful way. Life is full of choices. Sometimes we do the right thing for the wrong reason and vice versa, but the only solution is taking responsibility for our own decisions and fix what is broken withing our own means. j
The first time I saw his expensive briefcase, it was open on his desk as I carefully dusted around it to prevent from disturbing its contents. All the while I was unable to avoid seeing it as a reminder of someone else's greater value and success. In all facets of his life he was a winner. He had a great career, home, and family, and that seemed to hit me as a blow to my own self worth. It just reminded me of my own failures. From what I could see, he had done everything right, and I certainly envied his diligence and achievements.
It was a few months later that his wife called me with news that I never would have expected. She said I did not need to come back to clean because he had been killed in a car wreck on his way home from the office. As a courtesy, I came to work at no charge, but only neighbors were there to let me in. His wife and baby had left to stay at her parent's house. It was strange how so much can change in such a short time. She would probably have to move, and her baby girl would never really know her father.
When I arrived, I saw the briefcase again. This time it was sitting by the door. Apparently, the police had brought it when they gave her the devastating news. I will never forget the sight of it. A mangled torn up mess was all that was left. Evidently, he had lost control on a curve and his car hit a tree. If the neighbors had not informed me, I think the briefcase told it plain and clear. Just one look and you knew it was bad, real bad.
That was the last time I cleaned for them, and I never saw her again. I have often wondered how she is now. Before I had spent so much energy envying her life, but after that I could only feel a deep sadness for her. I realized how brief and fragile life can be for anyone, rich or poor. One can only hope to live this life understanding that what truly matters cannot be bought or sold, and to know that only we can fulfill our dreams. Success and acceptance are not inside someone else's briefcase, but rather can only be found within the clutches of one's own heart.
