I have long been resigned to the fact that I am not a contented person. I almost cherish and nurture discontent, for I believe it is a harbinger of ambition, and consequently, achievement. But for the first time in my life greed accosted me and now I know how different a beast it really is. Greed can seep up like the slow warmth of alcohol slipping down the throat. Warmth that rapidly becomes an unforgiving heat, a burning desire. What I naively imagined to be an ephemeral tryst with an unknown vice opened a Pandora's Box of realization.
I'm greedy for time. Time for pursuits close to my heart. Time for those special few. Such greed, only timelessness can sate. Even eternity is insufficient.
The times when I behave like there's no tomorrow. The uncontrollable urge to bare my entire self within moments. The involuntary rush to talk faster than my racing thoughts. The constant battle with nature to stretch time on the sly. All of this is greed indeed.
There is greed in the questions that haunt my mind. In my undying thirst for an instant answer to every question, every time. And in my need to dichotomize all of life into right and wrong. There is greed in my determination to wipe away every threatening hint of gray.
Greed rules the need for approval. The craving to be wanted, accepted and appreciated blurs the line between the normal and the irrational. Importance is an avaricious quest, the unfortunate weakness of our insecure race.
Restlessness is a form of greed. Impatience, its inevitable child. There is greed in the urge to second guess life, in the hunt for binoculars to get a sneak preview of the future.
Greed! My newest acquaintance. Greed! The mother of my insomnia.
PS: Musings during my flight down to Peru. Glories of wonderful Peru coming up soon!