Surrender, Dorothy

Two weeks ago, I went into my Wednesday thrift shop, a bit late this time. I was, of course, thinking about the jewelry - I knew there was something here for me today. Wrapped in my own little lust-ball, I tunnel-visioned my way to the showcases and found ... nothing at all for me, and very little even new. I was so convinced of a prize, I took my time and studied anything that was remotely intriguing. Disappointed, I went to the main floor, belatedly remembering I needed end tables, too.

And there it was. A bookcase, tall and double-doored, Mission style, absolutely stunning. I sprinted to my new love with bated breath. Smooth wood, not a blemish on it - brand new! Even better, the tag said $229 (and 25% off)! It was perfect! And it had waited just for ...

Someone else. The lower half of the ticket was gone. And the new owner was hovering nearby.

He saw my interest (how could he not?) and leaned in. "Look at the back," he said with a smile. I knew what I would find but I did it anyway and listened as my heart thumped to the floor. Stickley.

I felt it then, the icy inferno that burst from my toes to my scalp - envy. Oh, it was new Stickley, reproduction not antique, but in that moment I wanted to slap his grin off his face. I wanted to find a sledgehammer and destroy it - if I couldn't have it then no one could. I wanted to cry.

"I hope my wife loves it," he said hesitantly, concerned. "I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't."

"There's a lock," I said stupidly.

"It's beautiful inside," he said, pulling out the key.

"Can you believe it?" said another patron as the guy unlocked the doors. "He got there one second before I did." My green-eyed monster recognized his with a grimace that passed as a smile. "I've never been here before. Now that I know what I can find, I'll be here every other day."

"See the finish?" the new owner asked, running his hand over the shelves. "Do you think she'll like it?"

I echoed the movement and almost groaned at the silky, yet somehow rustic, feel of the woodgrain beneath my fingers. "If she doesn't," I said harshly, "call me first. Wait, I have a card somewhere ..."

"I spent more than I really ..." he murmured, not listening. "She's not going to ..." he blinked. "Yeah, I could always put it on eBay, or Craigslist, right? If she doesn't? Right?"

My heart skipped a beat, and I looked at him again with narrowed eyes. His smile - not a smirk, not a gloat. He was worried. How much of the price was holiday money, grocery money, rent money?

The drumming in my ears became louder, faster. I could get it for ... not the song it was originally (25% off remember!) but still ...

I briefly closed my eyes and sighed. "If you do - well, I've never seen a piece of Stickley, new or used, go for less than $600, and that was a tiny, tiny side table at an estate sale." I saw the other guy glare, make shushing movements. I wiped sweat from my lip, made myself breathe. "This piece is new but ... I don't even know where I'd start it. Stickley doesn't put prices on the web site, it's that high-end. Someone around here sells it, though, obviously. Find out what they're charging."

The worried husband's brow lightened a bit. "Really?"

"Yeah," I said reluctantly. "This was a steal." I forced the words out. "Congratulations. It's an amazing piece."

I swept away before I could do something stupid, like fall on the floor and hammer my heels until someone gave me one just like it.

Several days later, I finally let it go, thanks mostly to that last thought. Funny thing about envy - you want what someone else has, to the point of pain, sometimes, but you never want to work to get it. Lust, gluttony, and greed are all high-energy Deadlies - we'll work our butts off to possess the object of our want/need. Envy is passive, a magnified wish or a escalated yearning (that can turn into lust). Yet envy binds us into our own hell just as effectively, from the inside. The more we envy, the less we're satisfied by our current weight, possessions, job, or level of prestige. And the more we envy, the more we begin to rage at the unfairness of it all instead of work toward a better level.

I don't believe in fate (no choice in it), but I do believe in destiny. And, duh, I can't progress toward my shining future if I focus on someone else's, even for a moment. Usually, when I first feel the burning tickle of envy's sicky web, I snap to attention, count my blessings, then do it again, if needed. And once more in really bad cases - I've fallen over my own feet in my journeys too many times because of inattention not to. This time was harder than it has been in years, maybe because an easier path makes us take so many things for granted we get selfish. I don't know. But I forced myself to say the words ... out loud and endlessly and from the heart ... and eventually I came back, content, to the place I love - right where I am, in every way.

FYI, I did call my local dealer. That bookcase is currently on sale for $3,399 ... unless it was numbered, but those "went like hotcakes" (for much, much more). And I swear I remember a number.

Oh, God ... "There's no place like home, there's no place like home." Click, click, click. "There's no place ..."

Hey, if he can do it, I can, too, right? On my own path. Besides, my future is so very cool ...