2013 - a thought

So, what do I really know about the year that still has 356 brand new and unused days to offer? Nothng, to be perfectly honest. Nothing at all. But inside my head and heart musings and speculations, hopes and fears are equally brewing.

We all, myself included, wish that 2013 will be all that the previous years failed to deliver - at least to the extent we had hoped they would. Living in one of the world's richest countries, it's hard not to be influenced by the cocky optimism indicating that our pockets will still be lined with gold in the foreseeable future. Norway seems to have received some kind of giant, fool-proof vaccination that sucessfully keeps all forms of societal threats at bay. There is a widespread sense of expectation out there that whatever has affected Europe, and large chunks of the world, wil not touch us. Because our oil and our fish farms have kept us safe thus far, daily swelling our State Pension Fund by the millions.
And the 2000+ billion NOK that we've accumulated will, surely, keep us happy ase a wave of retirees soon will start claiming their retirement benefits?

2013 will most likely prove to be no exception, and that worries me slightly. Because in my mind, there are few things harder to handle well than riches. This past Christmas, Norwegians exceeded past spending spree records, and without paying attention to the cries from fiscal prudence, diamonds and other luxury items were once brought home by eager hands too eager to please. And once more, the hordes of already spoilt children could relish in the frenzied unwrapping of the myriads of presents.

So, we will probably still be as nauseatingly well off as we alrady have been for well over a decade, and we will be having few thoughts to spare for the children of Syria that are dashing for safety in the war-torn ruins of their home towns. We won't loose our sleep either over the images of endless queues of Spaniards desperately searching for employment: money that will pay for the medication they can barely afford any longer.

It's not that I am sadistically hoping for our economy to collapse. I am not. On the contrary: selfishly, in the back of my overcrowded mind I am planning our next, possible travel abroad - fully expectant our family funds will still allow for such largesse. But still I cannot, with any noticeable measure of success, stave off the idea that we would profit as a people from seeing our fortunes dropping somewhat.

Our wealth has not made us more prone to want to lighten the burdens of widows and orphans outside our borders. We nervously chatter on about the terrifying possibility of waves of refugees and asylum seekers arriving, or - even worse - the prospect of entire clans of the Rom people carpeting our parks and open spaces with their alien presence. Hyprocritically, I - the Christian - find myself sometimes participating in the harangue aimed at those who only too understandably pursue the faint hope of an improved existence for themselves and their offspring.

But, how can we possibly fare better by having to enjoy less of the affluence we're currently wallowing in? I'm not sure to be honest, but perhaps with a little less, we just might begin to identify slightly more with those hit much harder by life's blows, and thus, through the lessons of soft knocks well learned, we may begin to reawaken to the truth that money can't ultimately buy the satisfaction and well-being we're constantly craving. Poverty is no boon, certainly, but having just enough will likely heighten our awareness of - as well as our gratefullness ?  for - the truly good life:

A life that centers on the quality of our relationships, and not on our purchase power.