I’d like to say it never rears its ugly head, that I’m always completely, 100% confident with my plans and my choices in life.
But then a friend posts of video of the model
mansion home they just “ordered” and my simple dreams of our little duplex or small starter home and eventually cozy little bugalow seems a little less shiny.
Then the thoughts start about why didn’t I do this or that, all the questions rotating on how different choices could have provided larger salaries so that we wouldn’t have to live in my parent’s basement in order to save up for even the most modest of homes.
Eventually though, I’ll remember excess makes me uneasy and how cavernous and vacant those large houses seem to me and how much joy living with my folks and sharing Henry’s little moments is bringing to my parents. And most importantly I remember that one day, if everything goes right I’ll be selecting the plans for my farm-house and I realize that big house in the suburb doesn’t come with its own acres of fields and yard, no space for a real garden, chicken, sheep, bees, no fruit trees or berry bushes. It doesn’t come with its own fishing pond waiting to be revitalized or with enough land that I don’t have to think twice about giving a little patch to my cousins so their kids can escape the city or they can build a place to escape too. That big house in the suburbs won’t make any income just from the land itself.
Suddenly I’m not too jealous anymore.