Do You Have Everything

Life sometimes provides me with a reminder of what is important.  This particular one came from a six-year-old child.  I think sometimes children do show a wisdom that is at once baffling and wonderful at the same time.

Elizabeth and I were recently in Reykjavik Iceland as part of a cruise.  My friend Hulda, her mother, and her two children picked us up at the dock and took us around.  We had a fantastic time, and hopefully they did as well.  It is always nice to be shown a place by a friend who is from the place.

When we were finished walking around a particular spot, we got back into the car.  Hulda’s mother was driving while she herself was in the front passenger seat.  Elizabeth and I were next, and the two kids, were in the very back.  Hulda asked “Do you have everything?”  I immediately took a mental inventory of the things I carried.  Yes, my iPhone is in my pocket.  Yes, I have my backpack.  Yes, Elizabeth has her hand bag.  All is well.

Then little Hekla, Hulda’s six-year-old daughter pipes up:  “I have my brother, my mother, Granny, Marc and Elizabeth.  Yes I have everything.”  What an amazingly simple and profound statement that was.

This little girl interpreted her mother’s simple question in a completely different way to the rest of us.  To her, that question meant, “do you have everything that is important.”  And everything that was important to her consisted exclusively of the people who were important to her, beginning with her family.  She did not think in terms of objects.  She thought in terms of people.

Of course, every adult knows the question “Do you have everything” refers to objects.  It is designed to remind us to take an inventory of the objects we expect should be in our possession.  But Hekla’s response reminded me that sometimes, it is important to ask the same question from a child’s point of view.  Do I have everything?  Instead of thinking of various objects, I should stop and think of various people.

Hekla also inadvertently reminded me that a lot of people are unhappy because they do not believe they have enough.  Do I have everything?  No, I do not and I want, this, and that, and more of this, and more of that.  If I only had this object, or that object, I would be happy.  So no, I don’t have everything.

Or do I?

One thing people crave for is love, particularly romantic love.  There is nothing wrong with that.  But if I say, I want love, or even, I want happiness, I am actually treating love and happiness as objects.  Love is a shiny toy that I can grasp and control.  In my object paradigm even things which involve great emotions are just things.  And things can come and go.

Hulda’s little six-year-old daughter distilled a very profound question into its simplest form.  I have my brother, my mother, and granny and. . .”  There was no analysis of why she felt these people made up everything she wanted.  They just did and she left it at that.

So maybe there are three levels of realization where the question “do you have everything” is concerned.  The first is an inventory of objects.  This is fine if you are only after a practical immediate answer.  The second level answers this question by listing what objects you have and what they can do for you.  Thus, in my case, I might answer this by saying, I have two sisters and they provide me with. This and that.  I don’t think people consciously mean to answer do you have everything in this manner, but I think most people do despite their best intentions.

The third and highest answer to “do you have everything” involves not thinking in terms of objects.  In fact, it probably involves not thinking at all.  It involves relationships with other living beings.  When we move beyond objects, we don’t analyse what those objects provide me.  We don’t care.  We have my brother, and my mother, and granny and end of story.  We appreciate them simply being and no further analysis is required.

It is amazing that a six-year-old understands this instinctively, whereas I have to try to put it all into words.  Maybe Jesus was right after all.  Maybe we do need to become like little children.