I am not one who takes delight in owning things. Having moved eleven times since 1997 I have become less interested in things that need to be packed and moved. So my possessions are carefully considered. The things I own now are commitments to the longevity of staying in once place or to take with me.
Still, as I celebrate my 42nd week at the Westin Prince in Toronto since December of 2009 by writing this posting, I consider what is most important to me.
My first thought are the cats. While I do care for them, they are free spritis and I suspect that I belong to them just as much. Our symbiotic relationship is not about possession or ownership, but of cleaning litter boxes and lap sitting. They could run away and find new homes with ease. They must want to be there.
Next I consider one of my many electronic devices, like laptop, iPod, iPad, or HDTV. But these are really tools to me to write or explore stories. They could easily be replaced at a more frequent rate than I currently do. Even though I tend to buy nice things, they would not be my favorite things.
This morning, I decided that my most favorite, most prized item I own is a comb. It is white. It was free in a hotel room. It is white with blue lettering at the top "Hotel Tres Reyes Pamplona". This simple reminder each morning that manages my thick and lush blonde locks (which make my friends so jealous) is something I earned after years of planning and plotting. It is a marker that I had earned enough money, achieved enough vacation time, and had been brave enough to travel alone to a far and distant land to see the bulls. I have many photos and memories, but the comb is what I see each day on the road and reminds me of the greater world to see.