What's it all about, Alfie?

My 11th grade English teacher was a 50-something hippie; she'd grown up on a commune and lived life intentionally. A concept I didn't really understand at 16.

The very first question of the first day of class was "What's it all about, Alfie?" and she played the song while we wrote and debated that question. Later, we read the poem "Richard Corey" and played Paul Simon's version.

She taught me about the power of language to influence ideas and the power of ideas to influence language. Lessons I am still learning.

So, now, 34 years later, I return to that first question, and its corollary: Do I own my stuff or does my stuff own me?

I have talked with Jake and Sara about the secret to happiness: find something you would do for free, and then find someone who will pay you to do that. What I am beginning to understand is that, if you live lightly, you could do it for free.

For instance, one of my two jobs earns the money to pay my mortgage. If I didn't have a mortgage, I could give up one of my two jobs. I'm not working for "The Man" – I am working for The House.

But I'm not ready to give up the house, yet. I have a spaghetti bowl full of emotions and self-worth issues and hopes for the future tied up in home-ownership.

So, one step at a time.

Step 1: I am trying to rent out most of the house, for enough to pay the mortgage.

Step 2: I will spend the next months meditating on those emotions, self-worth-issues and hopes-for-the-future. To untangle those strands and separate my Self from my Stuff. Trying to answer that question.

What's it all about?