I Don’t Own Anything of Any Value

I was writing a post the other day and was trying to finish the sentence, “I’d bet my best…” and couldn’t come up with a single thing that folks would interpret as something that could be considered the best of anything. I thought about fibbing just to make the point and saying, “…my best pair of Manolos”, but I don’t own a pair of Manolos. In fact, I don’t own one pair of designer shoes. If you follow me, I’m sure you might find that hard to believe, but it’s true!

In fact, the only designer thing I own is two Kate Spade bags, both of which I bought at a second-hand store. As I considered this, I began to take inventory of all of my possessions and I have come to the realization that I don’t own anything of any value.

Unless you consider the books I have stacked on my shelf that shifted my perspective on who I am and changed my entire life. Or the millions of plants that I say good morning to each day and thank them for bringing such beauty and joy into my life, including one that belonged to my mom, which I adopted after she passed. Or the crystals I have strewn about that bring something to my spirit when I need it most. Or the solitary photograph of myself with the most important person in my life: my daughter. Or, perhaps the little gold bird that has a crown on her head that a dear friend bought for me when I was down to remind me of the queen I am, and one with wings to boot. The individual art pieces on my wall that I bought as gifts for myself, the postcards I received and framed from my partner while we were painstakingly apart, the couch I wanted SO BADLY that I sawed the feet off to get inside my house, the bed that reminds me of a cloud when I sink into it because I have 3 (three!) toppers on it to make it so, the cards I’ve kept from clients thanking me for making them feel beautiful…

I’ve met a lot of poor folks that are far richer than most of the wealthy folks I’ve ever known. Maybe, just maybe, I’m the richest woman in the world.