The Gift

When we are younger, rare is it that we truly know ourselves. There is an idea of what we want in life, but all too often these wants are the result of social conditioning, the expectations of others: You want a newer car. A decent size house full of furniture. A job that gives you dental and a 401k. This is what you want…or at least this is what you’re told what you want. Myself, I did not truly understand what I wanted—what I needed—until I was given a gift.

My sister and her husband were moving from Colorado to Vancouver, Washington. My role was to drive the moving truck. They flew me out to Denver and, after we unloaded their furniture, would buy me a train ticket back to Sacramento. I’d drive their U-Haul full of stuff, spend a few days with my friend Mark, and head back to California. That was the plan. Instead, I fell in love with Portland and decided to find a job there. All I had with me was a borrowed carry on suitcase. When I rented a room, I had to borrow a sleeping bag and pad from Mark—

The craziest thing happened, I found that the few things I had were all I needed to make me happy: One room. The things I had in that suitcase. Some used books. Art supplies from the dollar store—

Wait…this is all I need? Wow.

It has been thirteen years but I am still in touch with the feeling of liberation experienced in that moment, sitting in a nearly empty bedroom.

I didn’t need a big house or a 72 inch television or a newer SUV—

All I needed was my bed, books, some clothes, and art supplies.

In this country, we make a lot of noise about this word “Freedom”—

What I felt in that rented room was real freedom, freedom from needing a lot to be happy.

I could have bought everything in that room for a couple hundred dollars—

This is all I need? Really? Just this is enough to make me happy?

Yes.

That understanding was a gift. Most likely, the best gift I will ever be given. It stays with me to this day. I keep my apartment very clean. Some would say this is a habit one cultivates as they grow more mature. Possibly, but I also believe it is due to gratitude: After living “off grid” in a minivan my 325 square foot apartment is a palace. A kitchen? A real toilet and bathtub? Are you shitting me? I’ve been back in the stick and brick world for fifteen months and it still amazes me. I don’t even need this much space, I would be totally happy in a 200 square foot cabin or trailer. There are always things I want—(Guitars, more books, Chuck Taylors in many colors)—but once you find the joy in living a stripped down life, those wants fall into the background.

Hey, while you're here, be sure to check out my books: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Izaak-Diggs/author/B00EG7OKUY?ref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true&ccs_id=8fb1f778-87a2-44e7-92bc-1706e89a9c41