The World is Mine?

It’s pretty hard to believe that the world, in all its fullness, can belong to each and every one of us. The world is yours. The world is mine. I don’t get it. Particularly seen from here, my little farm. I run it with my wife Jane, and we get by, sort of, but only sort of. What belongs to me are a few acres of land, some tools, a tractor, and the old clothes I wear. That’s the world to me, the things that are mine, what I share with my wife and our old dog.

But beyond that. The whole round shebang, somehow belonging to me? I can’t see it, although I see what they mean by it, that if I wanted to, I could go walking into the sunset, hat in hand, and be at home everywhere. That if I could only see that I have everything to win, and nothing to lose, that then, then everything would be mine and nothing could stop me.

I don’t believe it. I’ve got what I’ve got, and it ain’t much. And sometimes it makes me depressed, knowing that this is it. The few bits and pieces. The story about me and my wife and our dog. It really gets me down. Like losers forever trapped in a Bruce Springsteen song. But at least I know that the world isn’t mine, and to tell you the truth, it’s a pretty big relief.