Endless Supply

I used to avoid water. I didn't like to drink it or swim in it or put my face directly into the shower stream. I'm not sure why; maybe it had something to do with my earthy birth sign. In any case, my lack of water consumption affected my health.

Having grown up in the Midwest, I'd always thought of water as free and plentiful, but once I moved to Los Angeles, I felt a limited supply. We could not water lawns during many times of the year, had to limit showers, and became grateful for what we were able to consume.

The fact that water was limited made me want it all the more. Today, back in the Midwest, I am an avid water drinker, but I still limit face time in the shower.

It's an odd thing - our behavior when we feel things are in limited supply for us. Of a recent winter, we had forecasts of a huge snowstorm that was to hit our area. As often happens, the grocery store shelves became barren - as if we could not live four days without a can of peas? I went shopping as I normally do and took some sausage patties from the refrigerated shelf. A hand came from behind me and nabbed that package right out of my hand. I turned and looked at this woman who was forced to look back into my face rather than my back. It was the last package of this particular brand, but plenty of others were available. "Oh," she said. And handed it back to me, complete with her thumb poked through the plastic. It frightened me in a way. A snow storm caused her to wrench sausage patties from my hand?? This was not a life-saving malaria drug, it was a breakfast food.

Perhaps this behavior is a throwback from our caveman ancestry. You get mastodon, me get squat, I starve, clan starve. Is this an analogy to the way we approach life? There are those who feel a sense of lack around them; finite resources, all the time. They are not happy for the success of others because they feel there is only so much to go around - if you have it, got it, win it, what about me? What about meeee?

I had an acquaintance who demonstrated this very well. She joked a lot, but a deep sadness was within her countenance. We would share stories, information, all enjoyable. But I noticed, over time, that I edited my comments when with her. I was reluctant to share any personal achievements, prospects of new business, or joyful happenings. My problems were met with enthusiasm while my accomplishments were met with admonition. "Well, that won't last, you know." "Don't count on that happening again." "I wouldn't bet on them coming through for you." I stopped sharing my happy moments and turned conversation to the negative in order to have a closeness with her. My stomach aches during our encounters belied the impact on me.

My assessment was this - the feeling of lack encourages a competitive spirit. Worse, one may also take joy in hearing of another's problem or misery. This is called schadenfreude. Our society is rife with it.

The lack, in this case, is not physical, but a black hole in the soul. In this day and age, our enlightened senses should reveal to us that our universe, our divine heritage, our nurturing planet is not a respecter of persons. We all experience lack at times, we all experience abundance. Our challenge is to recognize and tap into that unlimited supply of spirit that exists so that we feel a sense of peace and completeness, regardless of our circumstances.

Since my encounters with this acquaintance, I regularly check myself with others. Am I genuinely happy for them when they have joy? Am I present for the good as well as the bad? I hope so.