Is there such a thing as too much of a good thing? Flippantly, we'd all say a hearty "NO WAY!" But as I made my way through the aisles of exquisite finery on Friday, I was thinking . . . you know I'm always thinking . . .What does "good thing" mean? Really, doesn't it mean nothing of what we consider good and decent, but everything about excesses and our greedy hearts? What happens when everything is exquisite? when you can get everything you want?
I'm picturing a celebrity who drives, no is driven in, the best car, carrying a Bottega Veneta purse, wearing the latest Manolo Blahnik, having eaten the most exquisitely prepared fine food, walks into her Pacific Ocean-view home, where she crashes onto her 1,000-count sheets on her Hypnos bed.
What happens to your head? Can you stay level and sane? What if you're a teenager and your lithe young body and swivels earn you millions? I read that a woman's brain isn't fully developed until she is 27. Twenty seven! Can you see why some young women go insane?? What would happen to you? Does the 1,000-count sheet feel like sandpaper if not perfectly washed and dried? Would that justify firing the housekeeper? Does a mere Coach bag seem cheap and stiff?
. . . or would you get bored and long for a swing on your grandma's back porch?
When God created the Heavens and the earth, He said it was "good." Can we take a lesson from the Lord Almighty? He might know something. Has that word been a victim of grade deflation? Did "good" come to mean adequate, when really, it means "just right" and "Fitting?"
You know I'm no camper. I joke that I'd be glad to camp at any Hilton. You think this is a non-sequitur, but hang on. When I'm by the ocean, when I watch the sun set, when I'm seeing a mountain range, or the infinite color range of the Grand Canyon, I don't get sucked dry. I feel filled. OK, a few minutes looking into the Grand Canyon is fine by me. I have no compulsion to climb down it or anything. But being near such exquisite beauty, I feel a part of something infinte. I can look and look and never see the end; I feel enlarged and filled.
After Friday's foray into a world of exquisite madness, I was exhausted. I was enlightened, inspired and awed, yes, but also wrung out. Is it just me? What is it about material goods that seem to suck me dry? What about human endeavor that seems to be . . . limited? It makes me want, but doesn't satisfy.
I'm thinking, maybe you can have too much of a good thing. Depending what you mean by "good."