The stuff people throw away.

There is a fridge on the curb next to one of the dumpsters in my apartment complex, y'all. A friggin' fridge.

Folks since I moved in six months ago have thrown away things not limited to: at least a dozen mattresses, a full dresser/armoire/nightstand set, more TV's than I can count, couches, tables, bathroom cabinetry (?) and last night, someone tossed a bicycle frame with the wheels missing. (That was missing this morning when I left for work. Waste not, want not I s'pose.) It's just mind blowing, especially considering what a poor neighborhood I live in, that huge items such as these are carted off to waste each week. I also look with shame at the grocery items that don't make their way into my tummy before they grow fuzz and have to be thrown out. It makes you wonder, why?

I went through a freegan phase the last time I lived in Indianapolis. Honestly, maybe I should go back to that. I ate better quality foods, I furnished half my apartment for free, and I often found beautiful flowers that I decorated my apartment with or gave away.

We are such unbelievably wasteful creatures. We hoard and waste more than that Hell layer in Dante's book would have even known how to deal with. Thanks to Pinterest, I at least keep most of my hoarding in the digital domain.

I'm not huge on the American holiday of Thanksgiving, because it's a celebration of three things I really don't cotton to: excess, imperialism, and commercialism. But in the spirit of appealing to a season in which people also value thankfulness (Which I pray will evolve to a point where we're thankful daily as a culture), one Thanksgiving blessing I wish to see on all people is an abundant thankfulness for "enough."

Imagine if we realized we have enough.