When Material Possessions Tear at the Very Fabric of Our Lives

Monarch chrysalis. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)

“Gimme more, gimme more, gimme more!” seems to be the mantra of the rich and famous and the faux rich and famous.

From my perspective: It's better to watch a monarch caterpillar chew on milkweed leaves than to yearn for a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes. Frankly, I wouldn't know a Jimmy Choo if it stepped on my hiking boots. But I would know if a monarch fluttered down and touched me on the hand.

I cannot recognize the fragrance of the world's most expensive perfume, Annick Goutal Eau d'Hadrien – $441.18 per ounce—I looked it up. But I do know the aroma of a honeysuckle beckoning a honey bee.

I wouldn't know a Louis Vuitton designer bag from or a Chanel but I do know this: the old and tattered camera bag slung over my shoulder is a faithful workhorse with a purpose.

I wouldn't know Dolce & Gabban jeans from Robert Cavall but I do admire the genes of a monarch butterfly and a honey bee. 

I wouldn't know a princess-cut diamond from an emerald-cut diamond but I do know that the shape of a lady beetle is a cut above.

For me, the glow of a diamond on a finger pales at the glow of a monarch on milkweed. “Precious” is not the stone but what just eclosed from a chrysalis.

So, today as we give thanks with our family and friends, this question begs for answer: Do we own our possessions or do our possessions own us?

Life should not be about pursuing and protecting our materialistic possessions but pursuing and protecting our passions. Such as exploring the wonderful world of insects...

Hap-bee Thanksgiving!