The Problem with Only Traveling First Class

The problem that arises by only traveling first class and always staying in first class hotels and accommodations, and only dining at first class restaurants and attending first class events, is that after a while, our estimation and consideration of ourselves is that we are also first class, that first class is really us, because that is essentially what we have become and continue to be.

When we are surrounded by first-class, yes, we are treated as first-class, yes, but we may lose sight of the fact that we are paying for all our surroundings, and that, except for those providing services – who we do not normally see, talk to, or acknowledge – all the persons surrounding us are all like us, subtly or overtly self-centered, but fully prosperous first-class people, for there is no one who would say otherwise, for no one really cares about us, and we have no friends whose depth of “friendship” extends beyond what we do or where we live.

We have no one in our lives who is really interested in us beyond their own self-interests, and we are the same to others, as they are to us.  For no one deeply interests us, for no one is essentially different from us.  And this is the endpoint, our lives surrounded by first class others, with no one who really cares for us, and even though we are not happy, and happiness does not surround us, and we are alone – we do not really know this, and do not possess – amongst the multitude of everything we do possess – even the ability, understanding, and wisdom to know this cold awful fact.

For the people, the persons – the “things” – we lost and abandoned, or forgot or pushed out of our way, nameless and silent, are not around – good!  For they had their own lives to pursue, perhaps successfully, but not in our orbit, thankfully, and there is no memory of them.  

For the most part, within us, we do not remember those we treated as things, that were of no real importance or utility to us, such as persons, and sadly, but inevitably, that process is reproduced towards us by those to whom we also are of no real value – all those to whom we have never giving anything of importance, those to whom we have never offered anything of ourselves, for now, also sadly, our concept of self is just expressed in the joyless description of things, the things that only needed money, and lots of it usually, to acquire and possess.

So now near the end, we may have many expensive and even beautiful things, but we also then have nothing of true value, nothing whose worth is not within our own heart and mind measured in monetary terms. For things of true importance and value are those things given to us, such as with persons who have freely given of themselves, of which we now have none, and even if we ever did in our life have such persons, we do not remember them, as they themselves were never anything of worth or importance to us …

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Moments of Seeing & Occasional Pieces – Writing In The Shade Of Trees