When I was young, I thought my world would be different — better — if I were in possession of certain items. If only my parents were rich enough or receptive enough to feel motivated and/or inspired to go — no run! — to the stores and shop, shop, shop for me. If only they had been mind readers that focused their amazing powers on me, Kennedy Farr, and my seemingly simple wants.
Looking back, it amazes me how the mind of a child knows intuitively how to intend, to want, and to dream. While all of these many material things were beckoning to me — many of which I never received — I somehow knew, deep within, that if I wanted them badly enough, they might just appear. What my child’s mind didn’t understand is that the Universe’s timeline was not going to quite match up with my Childhood timeline.
As a child, I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t have all that I wanted. Now, as an adult, I can see how many of these wants and dreams have come alive. Surely some have introduced themselves in different disguises, but they have made an appearance, nonetheless. Some of these appearances have been momentary and fleeting, while others have lingered past my wanting: a lesson and testimony to be more aware of what I say that I want.
In that I didn’t come from a family of wealth, I wasn’t a trust fund child, and I wasn’t some yet-to-be-discovered princess who was living as a servant in some rich relative’s attic, I found myself in the unfortunate position of having to work for what I wanted — for the things that went beyond food, shelter, and a good pair of school shoes. I babysat, polished my dad’s shoes on Saturday nights, set up woefully-unsuccessful Kool-Aid stands, and swept the dance floors of my dad’s bar — hoping that some inebriated souls had carelessly dropped some coins while pulling out their hankies to mop their polka-sweaty brows.
Included in these posts are some of the items that I dreamed of possessing as a child. The funny thing is I can I look at them now and still identify the charms that once beckoned to me. I hope you enjoy this trip down Memory Lane with me . . . and perhaps you will remember some of the valued things and dreams that you once wanted as a child and have brought with you into adulthood.
Perhaps we are the sum of our dreams, whether they grace us in disguise or roar in with trumpets blaring. And aside from these sometimes-magical and sometimes-dismal moments, I have learned that stuff is stuff. That I create more by wanting less. That life is what it is because I have dabbled around and created what it is. That it is more than chance and more than wanting. That I can create value by being present. By being in the moment.